Long Way Home
by liverpuddle
Summary: Faberry connection unfolds. Quinn/Rachel in and outside of class find a connection. So. They have traveled from Antipathy to Apathy to...where? We'll see...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Okay, I've changed this first author's note. So… Something always strikes me about writing in the fall. As far as this fic goes (which I started juuussst about a year ago: I had an odd inspiration that kept shooting off in tangents quite far from my original little flash of…whatever muses flashes us with. Apparently a more tawdry (okay tawdry might be a bit strong a word) muse flashes me later on, eventually. My point? I still have fun telling this morphed tale. So I keep at it, whether you like it or not...?  
**

**Anyhoo…..Just so you know: canon I have not been so hot with as far as time lines go. If I tried to keep up all the time with everything, well, it would push my story in even more directions than I can keep up with. Characters do (I like to think anyway…) keep to the 'spirit', if not the letter. Glee characters are such broad (and fun) strokes that I think there is a lot of room for the in-between to fill in. And they're crazy inconsistent for the most part, right? And... if I can't have fun with them, well then writing fic would be far less enjoyable.!**

**!A/N: new note on rating I've added retroactively. I've waffled on this. I think overall this is a T (or R if that was an option). However, there are a few M chapters. I shall warn you well in advance of these. If you skip them, you will not miss much plot. I promise.**

Quinn made her way through hallways to her first class, chilly as usual this time of year. She enjoyed donning her hard won Cheerio armor well enough at the beginning of the year, and through some of the crisp football season. But as the weather turned colder, it was nice to be able to look forward to being able throw on some jeans and a sweater now and again. Not that it had been easy to get Sue Sylvester to agree let them don 'civilian clothes'.

"You think that's hard? Try running the Iditarod, two of your dogs gimpy, and Sarah Palin taking aim at your ass with an AK-47. THAT'S hard!"

Quinn listened to another half dozen Sue-isms before calmly stating the obvious. "Try winning Nationals again with half the team recovering from walking pneumonia just when we need to be at our best."

The tall coach shook her head with a grimace, and let out a growl. "Damn it Q. When you're right, you're right. I hate it when you're right. Don't do it again."

Quinn didn't even try to keep the small smile of victory from her lips as Sue leaned forward on her massive desk towards her, slapping her palms on the mahogany.

"Okay Q. You may spread the word to the rank and file. Civvies are allowed on NON-game days, and non-game days only. Game days, Spirit Days, and my birthday, you will suck it up. And you will like it. This is effective…" She paused pulling her mouth to the side as she mulled it over. "Effective whenever the hell that Daylight Savings Time begins. Or ends. Whatever it is. Talk about your bunch of wussies. You're all a bunch of coddled wussy pants! Why back in my day, Q, we were lucky just to…"

Quinn barely kept the grimace off her face as she dared to cut into the no doubt classic Sue Sylvester rant that was about to be spewed at her. "Coach Sylvester, I really need to get to class…"

The Coach slapped her hands down, shocked at the interruption. "Quinn, that was dangerously close to being right again. Knock it off. Oh, and Q? Just so you know, you're all back in full uniform again every day when Daylight Savings Time ends. Or begins. Again. Whatever. In the Spring. You know what I mean. Dismissed!"

Quinn smiled again, turned on her heel as her skirt flared, and left to spread the good news. It meant a few more decisions in the morning, instead of always knowing what she was going to put on. But during the year of Babygate, and her subsequent return to 'the fold' of the Cheerios, she had developed a love/hate relationship with that uniform. It was a protection certainly. But she had no problem now seeing how restrictive it was. It was also was still her most obvious ticket out of Lima, so she didn't go so far as disrespecting it.

The news about wardrobe options had mostly been a hit. She'd caught up with her de facto lieutenants on the way to AP English. Her Number 2 had been all for it after she thought it through. First, however, her eyes had narrowed in suspicion when she realized Quinn had made a team decision without consulting anyone. But as Quinn hoped, after pondering the possibilities, Santana was soon looking forward to further expressing her bad-assness through fashion. Frankly, Quinn was a little worried about what she might turn up in now.

Brittany was another problem entirely.

"But what will I wear Q? You'll help me, right S?"

Santana nodded and smiled at her in the way that she only did for Brittany. Which was to say genuinely.

Quinn nodded. "B, sure S will help you out. You can wear whatever you want now unless it is a game day. Or unless we tell you otherwise, okay?"

Brittany bobbed her head, and then phased out for a moment. Quinn smiled fondly at her friend, and her faraway look. Then she realized it paid to be a little more specific with the other blond cheerleader sometimes.

"Uh, B, you still can't wear you bunny slippers. That is a school rule, not a Cheerio rule, you know that right?" Santana shot Quinn a grateful look over Brittany's head, giving her a thumbs up for thinking to clarify that. And for saving Santana from having to be the one to tell her 'best friend' no.

Quinn watched her friend's face fall, and then light right back up again. The once again bouncy cheerleader continued moving down the hall with a smile. "That's okay Q."

Quinn walked with her towards class wondering what the other girl had dreamt up that was better than her bunny slippers.

The trio headed on to the class she shared with a few Gleeks, Santana, and (amazingly) Brittany-who made it much more entertaining, whether on purpose or otherwise.

She watched Brittany and Santana take their usual seats in the back row, leaning together giggling. She nodded to Kurt and Rachel and Mercedes in the middle section on the side. Under Kurt's reluctant social tutelage, the diva had finally moved from the front 'kiss ass' row to something more socially neutral. Naturally she still paid rapt attention, and raised her hand a few too many times, but she was altogether better. Quinn was neutral on the topic of Berry these days. They were never at each others throats anymore. There was nothing to fight over. And the pleasure she used to take from torturing the girl just wasn't there anymore. This empathy crap she unwillingly developed over the course of her drama last year had changed her fundamentally, whether she liked it or not.

She grabbed her spot next to Sam who gave her a happy smile. She smiled back, easy and warm.

That boy was always happy. He was easy to be around, like Finn in some ways. But he wasn't dumb as a box of rocks like Finn. As was evidenced by the fact that there was no Finn in this AP class or any other for that matter. She enjoyed the fact that they weren't serious, and she enjoyed his company. But she was still determined to make this year about herself, and figuring herself out. It was not going to be about boys. Or any one boy. And she while she found Sam very appealing and cute (for a blond boy), and she enjoyed the attention, she was not having any trouble keeping things light. She needed to study hard, and work hard for the Cheerios. After all, she needed a scholarship. Either for academics or cheering. She didn't care which, but she had to get one. A scholarship was her only way out, now that her dad had moved out. Her parents paying for college just wasn't much of an option for her anymore, if it had ever been.

So. She allowed herself to date Sam, keeping it casual and fun. And she allowed herself Glee. She knew it wasn't going to be a vehicle for her like it would undoubtedly be for Rachel Barbra Berry. But, it was something, and it made her happy. She found that being liked, and not JUST feared made her happy. Or happier.

Of course she could still whip out HBIC when she felt she needed to. But she seldom felt like it anymore, except when it came to exerting her influence in the Cheerios arena. She'd be damned if she let Santana on top of the pyramid.

She'd also stretched her newly recovered social muscles on behalf of her fellow Gleeks as best she could. Handing out wind sprints to any out of line Cheerios was something she still wielded with no remorse. And she used it mercilessly. Sure there were still comments and laughter directed at the Gleeks or other pariahs occasionally. She wasn't the thought police after all. But there were no slushies thrown by her girls, on pain of wind sprints and whatever else she and Santana could come up with. True, Santana only reluctantly backed her up on that. But back her up she did. And Santana could be very inventive when it came to punishments.

But of course she couldn't control the whole school, and all the cliques. She knew that dillhole Karofsky and his asshat friend targeted the Gleeks. But she felt that was more for Sam, Finn and Puck to man up and deal with. Boys were just idiots sometimes. She'd done her good deed for the decade making the Gleeks off-limits as best she could within her own sphere of influence. She was disappointed they hadn't had yet.

She looked at the slate sky outside. It looked cold. They were barely at Halloween, but Daylight Savings Time and jeans and sweaters couldn't come fast enough.

She sighed inwardly, and vowed to quit going Dr. Phil on herself for the moment and got ready to take notes on whatever writer they were going to be studying today.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up has already aired.  
**Rated:** R for language

**A/N: Well…still Unbeta'd. Sorry for all mistakes, feel free to point them out. Reviews would still be very much appreciated, as we all know authors live off of them, even part time authors like moi. And I still love popcorn.**

**A/N 2: On that note: thanks for the reviews, and for the adds and alerts. Popcorn for the soul! Still trying to set up my little world here. As for the Sun Tzu references. I did actually date a guy who was very excited about Sun Tzu. Like, 'this is awesome, everyone should read this' kinda way. I was more like no see this Shakespeare and Chaucer, everyone should read this! Now, I am (largely) unapologetically geeky about some things, but that is not one of them. Clearly, we were not meant to be. So no, I have never read the Art of War. So thank you Google. **

The bell for end of first period rang, and the class rose immediately shuffled to life as they gathered their things.

"Wait just a minute ladies and gentlemen! Mary Shelley's _Frankenstein_. I assigned it to you before Halloween. Be prepared to discuss it tomorrow. Which means bring your copy of the novel to class. You will break up into small groups tomorrow with an outline. Oh, and there WILL be a quiz next week. Off you go."

The class groaned collectively and gathered their notes and belongings and filed towards the door.

Brittany and Santana were, as usual out the door first. Quinn noticed Santana looked over her shoulder at her. "See you in Chem." Quinn sighed and nodded. Chemistry was not her favorite subject but she did well at it. Santana was a whiz though. But apparently not even Santana could tutor or cheat for Brittany enough for her make it into, much less pass AP Chemistry.

The load of Advanced Placement classes certainly meant for a smaller circle of classmates. She'd gotten used to seeing more of Rachel Berry, Sam, Artie and Tina, and Mercedes since the start of junior year and the whole AP program. But for now, it was homeroom and Calculus with Sam and Mike. She waited for them outside the door, and walked companionably, if quickly to their class.

Next up, it was the core curriculum Government class, and she wished she'd gotten it out of her way as a freshman. As it was, she had the distinct misfortune of sharing it with just Rachel Berry and a couple frosh Cheerios. There was no one to keep Berry from spouting ACLU history till the cows came home. Sometimes it was interesting. It was just cringe-inducing watching her sometimes. She was just so—utterly oblivious to most people's reaction to her. Blissful ignorance she guessed. Sometimes she sat next to her, sometimes she didn't. Today she slid in next to her, acknowledging her as she usually did with a non-committal nod and a brief but pleasant greeting. "Hey Berry."

The girl turned to face her and smiled brilliantly at her. She smiled at everyone brilliantly though. "Hello Quinn. How has your day been? I'm excited to get started on Frankenstein."

"Not bad. Not looking forward to Chemistry today. Frankenstein? Could be cool I guess. It's cool it was written by a woman."

"Indeed. Mary Shelley was quite the pioneer you know. She even —"

"Berry," she said not unkindly, "I'm a little tired today. Let's save it for tomorrow's discussion maybe? No offense?"

The brunette bobbed her head. Quinn didn't detect any hurt feelings in her uber-expressive brown eyes, and she was glad of that. She was still as short on patience with the diva occasionally. Who wasn't? But it seemed like Rachel was able to discern that Quinn wasn't trying to be mean. And well, Quinn ran out of patience with most people on a daily basis. It wasn't restricted to Rachel Berry. "Yay Kurt", she mentally cheered and thanked him. She noticed Rachel's social acumen had definitely improved. Or she thought she mentally cheered him.

"Yay Kurt? Quinn?" Puzzled the brunette looked at her.

Quinn shook her head, trying to clear it. "Wow, nothing, sorry. I didn't know I'd said that out loud. Sorry Berry. I really *am* tired, aren't I? Damn Chemistry homework, and Coach's extra long practices are just wearing me out."

Rachel tilted her head in sympathy. "Not a problem. I'd certainly rather not tire you out before Glee. We need all the energy we can get there. We need to get down to serious rehearsal soon."

Quinn nodded vaguely and got out her notebooks for class, tuning out much of it, but trying to make an effort to pay attention. It was a core class, but it wasn't terribly difficult, just a little dry.

Rachel was blissfully quiet, and even a little fun it turned out. Most of the motley collections of students were jotting away, or passing notes. Or in some cases, were sleeping. Which _could_ be dangerous. Quinn could see that Kristin with a K (as they called her since she had introduced herself Sue Sylvester at tryouts that way, earning her much ridicule) had let her head fall back and her mouth fall open. Christina with a C, her fellow freshman Cheerio was entertaining herself by trying to toss bits of raisins in her mouth while she slept. At least she hoped that was bits of raisins. She sighed.

Quinn felt a poke, startled as Rachel tapped her with a pen. She bit back the reflexive "what the fuck, Berry!" that was on the tip of her tongue. Old habits die hard after all. Instead she indicated the same sentiment with her eyes, eyebrows raised in question. The other girl pointed to the two Cheerios and leaned close in conspiratorially. Close enough for Quinn to smell something pleasantly vanilla-ish emanating from her somewhere, either her hair or her body lotion.

"Psst. And I thought Cheerios only turned on outsiders. I had no idea you all could go all Donner Pass on each other. How did you survive?"

Quinn felt an unexpected giggle burst quietly from her. She looked at the other girl, who looked pleased with herself. Then she sighed, and arched her eyebrow. "Berry, the urge for self-preservation within a discrete group is very powerful. Or weren't you paying attention in History last week?"

The diva looked, for the briefest of seconds, like she had been powerfully insulted by the implication that she would not pay attention in class. But it passed as she realized Quinn was teasing her. Quinn allowed a smirk to blossom, as she continued. "The way you dispatched the competition at the beginning of the year, I thought you must be studying Sun Tzu's _The Art of War_ in your spare time. Really Berry, did you have to send her to a crack house?" Quinn smiled again as she rolled her eyes and shook her head in mock amazement.

Rachel, for her part had the decency to look at least the slightest bit abashed as she shrugged sheepishly. _"All warfare is based on deception."_

Quinn slapped her hand to her face, and allowed a small grin as she shook her head. "I was kidding Berry. You are such a dork."

Rachel shrugged, and smiled what Quinn knew she thought of as her most winning smile. _"Hold out baits to entice the enemy. Feign disorder, and crush him."_

Quinn gaped in surprise, and grudging respect, and whispered "Good Lord Berry, do I need to be sleeping with one eye open?"

"You'll never know, will you Quinn? Just kidding. You aren't my enemy. When I thought you were though? Well, with you-I went a different route with you. _"If your enemy is temperamental, seek to irritate him_."

Quinn actually flat out guffawed at that, she couldn't help it. And Rachel looked immensely pleased with herself. Until the teacher cut in and called Quinn out.

"Miss Fabray, this is a classroom. Not a comedy club for your entertainment. Pay attention, and quietly, or I'll send you to the office."

"Ahem, yessir." She wiped her face, gaining composure. She risked a peek at her cohort, who was now looking mortified and guilty for getting Quinn in trouble. Quinn wanted to laugh again at just how sincere and dorky (but apparently devious) the other girl could be. She reached over and gave her a friendly shove in the shoulder, looked at the teacher who had gone back to writing something on the board. She raised her shoulders in a shrug and rolled her eyes, and whispered to her. "No big deal."

Rachel clearly looked relieved, and smiled her apology.

"But I gotta say Berry, I'm impressed. And here I thought I was running things at McKinley. Rachel Berry, Puppetmaster extraordinaire?"

Rachel grinned maniacally for a second for effect, and Quinn rolled her eyes good-naturedly Quinn also noticed she continued to smile slightly until the end of class.

As they rose at the bell Rachel turned and hesitated. Quinn looked at her expectantly. The other girl shrugged, though Quinn wasn't sure why.

"Have a good lunch with Sam, Quinn. I shall see you in History later I guess."

Quinn smiled. "Sure thing Berry. Have a nice lunch with—Finn I guess?" Quinn realized she didn't know how Rachel ate with, but she assumed it was Finn.

* * *

Lunch with Sam was indeed good, and relaxed. She ate with Sam, and then they wandered over to join Mercedes and Kurt for a bit.

Fifth period History after lunch was always a bit tough, as most people were full from lunch and ready to take a nap. But Brittany, Artie and Kurt, Mercedes and Berry (yet again) were there, so it was an okay class. Unfortunately it was followed by Chemistry. But today it went by relatively quickly. An unexpected, but welcome phenomenon.

Before she knew it was time for Mr. Shue's Spanish III, where almost all the Gleeks except for Sam shared the class. Even Puck and Finn had somehow managed to not flunk Spanish II last year. Watching them in class she wasn't sure how.

Poor Sam had taken Latin at his previous school, and he'd had to go down to Spanish I because the school didn't have a Latin class to accommodate him. Which was pretty ridiculous, but Sam wasn't complaining. He said Spanish was so relatively easy to pick up compared to Latin, he practically used it as study hall. Which was nice because that meant he had more time to hang out. Sometimes with Finn and the boys, and sometimes with her. That was of course assuming she wasn't studying, or at Cheerios extended practice, or having her version of the Gilmore Girls Friday night dinner with her mom (which thankfully was not actually ON Fridays nights, but on relatively otherwise boring Wednesday nights. Usually after her mom got home from Mass.

* * *

Class had been uneventful, although Mr. Shue was looking more buoyant than usual. She wondered what that was about.

While she waited for Sam to swing her locker so they could chat before glee, she pulled out her copy of Frankenstein, perusing the back cover while she waited.

She finished the back, and had cracked the book to actually start to read the inevitable "Forward" section it always seemed 'classic' novels had. She was deep into the chapter when she felt a breeze. At the same moment she felt the breeze, she could smell it. She hated Axe body spray, and its entire ilk! I mean, sure. It was better than a completely stinky "I just had football practice smell." Marginally. But for just walking around the halls, it was too much. She accepted the quick kiss on her cheek with good humor though, but pulled back for a bit of air.

"Hey you."

"Como estas?"

"Oooh, someone has been paying attention in Spanish I then?"

Sam grinned his goofy grin. "Como se dice que… Good boy?"

Quinn smiled fondly at him, grabbed his hand, pulling him along. She seriously needed to find him a different cologne. Or maybe tell him none at all was better than the whiff of Paco Raban knockoff or whatever the hell stank he was using. She fought the urge to say anything now, but there would have to be a discussion about it, that was certain. "Come on good boy. Let's see what craaazy idea Mr. Shue has for us today."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up has already aired.  
**Rated:** R for language

**A/N: Well…still Unbeta'd. Sorry for all mistakes, feel free to point them out. Reviews would still be very much appreciated, as we all know authors live off of them, even part time authors like moi. And I still love popcorn.**

**A/N 2: On that note: thanks again the reviews, and for the adds and alerts. And now we are moving more into a wee bit of plot or meat of the story if you will. Or soy protein if you are vegan.**

Will Schuester had felt animated all day. All week really. So much so that he had a feeling he might have weirded his students out just a wee bit. This became clear when Rachel Berry came up to him after class and awkwardly asked him if he'd been taking any of his ex-wife's special 'vitamins' lately. He had just grinned and said no, he was on a natural high. She scrunched up her face, walked away shaking her head not looking entirely convinced.

He wasn't entirely sure why he was feeling so light, when really, he should be feeling depressed about Emma. But somehow he felt altogether 'lighter' for having had his talk with her during the Rocky Horror Glee performance that never was. And probably never should have been he admitted to himself now. He had known all along, if he was honest, that Rocky Horror was going to push too many boundaries in this small town. And he was more than a little ashamed and mortified that he'd risked the Glee club over it all.

But now he felt he'd genuinely cleared the air with Emma. He'd let her know how he felt about her still, and about where he stood. More importantly he admitted, he'd told her that he'd seen the positive difference that Carl had made in her life. He was able to say, and mean, that because he loved her, he had no choice but to admit that Carl was the best thing for her. For now. He was especially glad and proud of himself for not chickening out on voicing that last 'For now'. He could respectfully give her and Carl space, but she knew he was still waiting in the wings.

So no more backhanded scheming against Carl to win Emma back. He was going to support Emma's relationship choice. At least as long as it was good for her. And hope that someday, sooner rather than later, he'd be able to connect again with the new and freer Emma that was emerging. He smiled to himself thinking about it. What a great feeling.

Heading to the choir room for glee practice, he rubbed his hands together in anticipation. No, he wasn't scheming in regards to Emma anymore, but he was scheming in regards to his glee kids. For their own good of course.

He was often more aware of the drama in glee club than he wanted to be. Not all the sordid details usually, but he knew when there was tension between the disparate groups or people.

Things had calmed down considerably since last year. Sam had certainly fit in fairly well. There were very few actual 'blow-ups' compared to last year as well. The whole Artie/Tina/Mike triangle confused him somewhat. And he had no idea how Brittany was involved. Puck hadn't been around to stir up too much trouble. On the other hand, the club missed some of his spark.

All in all, things were pretty mellow and that was a good thing for the most part. However, they also seemed a little indifferent to each other perhaps. He still needed the club to come together as a team. One that would actually work for and support each other, and not just tolerate each other. If he could be man enough and friend enough to take a closer look at Emma and how she had started to blossom with Carl, then his students could all take a closer look at each other and appreciate what everyone else brought to the table.

And that was where his next set of assignments was going to help. Still smiling to himself, he burst into the choir room full of energy.

"Hello Glee clubbers!"

There were milling in their various little social groups. Rachel Berry was over by the piano working on her scales. The Cheerios had their heads together over something. Artie was talking with Finn and Sam, but keeping an eye on Tina and Mike who were laughing at something. Mercedes and Kurt were huddled over something else and texting at the same time. Pretty typical.

"I said hello!"

Variations of "what up Mr. Schue" and "Hi Mr. Schue" floated to him, as they took their places on their places on the steps.

"And hello to you all! I wanted to say you guys did a great job with Rocky Horror. I'm just sorry we couldn't perform it for the school. It would have been fantastic. It WAS fantastic."

They murmured pleased sounds.

We've obviously got to start thinking about what to perform for sectionals, and that will be our major focus for the foreseeable future.

He didn't need to look in Rachel Berry's direction to know she would be bursting with approval and ideas. He moved quickly.

"But before we get in to that in a few minutes, I want to tell you about the some side assignments I have for you. Rachel, we'll get back to possible Sectional selections in just a few minutes, so sit tight." He looked at her and she nodded, slightly chagrined.

"Now. I have been stressing this since last year, but you guys don't always seem to hold onto this idea. Teamwork. You guys are a TEAM. And you guys have managed to come together pretty well over the past year. But only under duress. If you guys want to win Nationals and go to New York, you are going to have live and breathe that teamwork."

He looked out over the students. They all looked pretty confused. By and large they probably felt most of the animosity of last year had faded, and it had. He could tell they were having trouble seeing what the problem was.

"Look guys," he was interrupted by the choir door bursting open as a re-mohawked Noah Puckerman strutted in. The guys (except Artie) and two of the Cheerios stood up and whooped and clapped. Everyone else smiled and clapped. He watched as Quinn shook her head, and smiled a little.

"That's right. Puckmeister is back in da house."

There was a cough and an unidentified stage-whispered "and out of the Big House." A yelp from Kurt indicating he must have been elbowed by someone also indentified him as the culprit.

"Now guys. Come on now. Be nice. TEAMwork, remember? Welcome back Puck, have a seat. You're here just in time for the new assignments."

Puck rolled on over next to Finn and bumped fists with him, and high fived Artie, much to his surprise.

"Okay then. Glad to have you back. Reunited and it feels so good?" Predictably and as planned, there was a collective groan as they all laughed at his cheesy line. He continued. "Yeah, that was pretty bad, huh? Anyway! Here we go. First, I think it's been awhile since we had a battle of the sexes around here, right? So that will be up first. We'll sort that out in a bit."

He watched amused as the girls and guys automatically separated themselves already. Kurt looked thoughtful for a moment, then went to the guys side. Rachel looked a little disappointed. No doubt her competitive nature kicking in. If she could have all the best voices on her team, she would want Kurt. He was proud of her for not outright asking Kurt in class to reconsider.

Well, okay, not much sorting there is there. But hang on, hang on. That is just the _first _assignment, and what we'll see performed next week. We'll talk more about it later. But first I want to add an extended assignment for right before the holiday break."

The now self-divided parts of the room looked at him. Rachel of course had her notebook out hanging on his words. He paused, trying to form the right approach. Things were mellow, but he was pretty sure they weren't going to be on board for this assignment right away. But sometimes you need to rip off the band-aid and get some fresh air in the wounds for things to really heal up.

"Now I know I usually let you guys come to whatever lessons you can get of things on your own. But I'm going to tell you about this one up front. Now bear with me."

Now the students were uniformly looking at him suspiciously, even Sam. Well, at least they were united on THAT front, he thought to himself.

"I'm assigning you partners. No, you're not doing duets again. And no there is not a prize this time Santana." Now there were actual verbal rumblings, so he hurried on.

"I watch you guys every practice, and you guys are coming along great. But…"

He launched into his semi-prepared monologue on teamwork.

By the end of it, they were looking puzzled and at least still slightly disgruntled by the time he wrapped it up.

"…you can all take a closer look at each other and appreciate what each and everyone of you bring to the table. And _really_ come together as a team, so we can take Nationals this year!"

Will wasn't naïve enough to believe his speech was going to bring a standing ovation. So he was satisfied with the lack of riot.

"This is all well and good Mr. Schue, but I still don't know that I see the point. With Kurt's range and my performances, and everybody's over all improvement in pitch and dancing I think we can take Nationals this year."

"Yeah Mr. Schue, I thought we all got along pretty well. I mean these days Quinn or I probably only want to throttle Rachel on days that end in a 'y'" Santana added in her patented bored voice.

Quinn scoffed and flicked Santana. Quinn tried to shake her head at Rachel to indicate that wasn't true. "Just Mondays for me, Berry, and I pretty much want to throttle everyone on Mondays, so don't take it personally."

"This is true" Sam chimed in sagely.

Finn agreed. "Yeah Mr. Schue, I don't know why you want to rock the boat here."

Puck was a surprise supporter. Or at least made the right noises to sound like one.

"Who's afraid of a little rockin' the boat?"

Will held up his hands to quell any mutiny.

"It's not up for discussion guys. I know you all have homework and projects, and football and Cheerios and…other things. So I'm stretching this out. I want you to get together at least twice and just…go have a burger. Er, or salad. Go for a walk. When you've done that. I want each partner to come up with a song that they will perform for the other partner. Something that indicates they at least listened to what the other person had to say."

There was a chorus that consisted of variations of "What? Are you kidding. This is not cool."

"So…if I hang out with Puck all day and we play video games I can just find some lame ass song about video games and serenade him?"

"Well, technically yes, Santana. But that would be missing the point of the assignment. And as I said, you don't get to pick your partners. The point is to get to know each other better. Not to insult each other. I hope you all will take this assignment seriously. It is going to help us get to New York if you do it right. And if you don't? I'll just make you do it again.

The groans were audible.

"Alright Mr. Schue. Whatever hopey changey stuff you're on, I hope it wears off soon. Let's get this sh—this thing over with already then."

"Umhmm" could be heard from both Mercedes and Kurt. And a general round of "No kidding" from everyone else greeted him. It wasn't exactly promising, but he'd expected that. They would warm up to it. Perhaps not until it was over, he admitted. But he still believed it would help bring them together.

Still using her bored voice, Santana prodded him. "Okay. Come on. Who is the lucky perv that gets to be serenaded by my bad self?"

He shook his head. "Not today Santana. You can all just stew a bit on it. I'll post the list on the choir door in the morning."

"In public? Greaaat."

"Yes in public. I suggest you ALL exchange numbers now, since you will be needed to contact your partner once I've posted it tomorrow. Go on."

"Mr. Schue, to save time, I suggest we just make a list here, and then we can all do that after rehearsal. That way we won't take up valuable rehearsal time exchanging numbers."

"Good idea Rachel. Here's a clipboard, pass it around quickly, and let's get started warming up."

The grumbled yet some more as they passed it around, as Will looked on, still pleased with himself. This could be good for everyone. He hoped.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up has already aired.  
**Rated:** R for language

**A/N: 1/8/11 Okay, I think this is the real Chapter 4 now, at least according to my drafts. Well…still Unbeta'd. Sorry for all mistakes, feel free to point them out. Reviews would still be very much appreciated, as we all know authors live off of them, even part time authors like moi. And I still love popcorn.**

**A/N 2: I'm goofing off today. Piper had her spay operation yesterday. So I'm watching her. Yay the joy of being able to work from home sometimes. So, I know there are people out there that don't remember their dreams. I'm personally glad that I do. But sorry if this makes no sense. Personally, when I'm dreaming, I'm usually aware of it, and if I'm having a dream I don't care for, with a lot of effort and talk from my 'brain', I can wake up. Now, I doubt I'd want to wake up from this one. But that's just me**. **So, yeah, I just wanted to get a *wee* bit o' Faberry in there, though I suppose that it's cheating. **

* * *

The gleeks cleared out of the choir, murmuring and discussing both the possibilities of who would be paired who whom, and what the boys would sing next week, and what the girls would sing.

Sam started by stating the obvious.

"Well I guess this could be interesting."

Quinn was a little agitated. She had a half decent flow to her life right now, and she was enjoying the relative calm that was allowing her to accomplish what she set out to each week. This? What Mr. Schue was poking at? It definitely had the potential to puncture the little balloon of relative serenity that glee seemed to have found.

She let some of her frustration seep out.

"Yeah, well, things have been pretty damn hunky dory compared to last year. Believe me Sam. Why the hell he wants to mess with that is beyond me."

He shrugged. "Well, maybe it won't be so bad?" He leaned in to give her a playful bump. Catching a whiff of his overwhelming cologne, she was already off kilter and riled up enough from glee that she couldn't hold back. She grabbed his arm as she walked along.

"Sam, I…dude. You have GOT to tone down the eau du teen horndog cologne you are sporting. Let's find you something else to wear, for the love of God."

"Ouch."

"Sam, I'm sorry. It's just-" she scrambled for something slightly less bitchy than what she had just said, "it's just since the pregnancy, I've become super sensitive to smells. And really, the smell of clean clothes is good enough for me."

Sam looked embarrassed, but raised his chin gamely. "Really?"

"Okay, well let me qualify that. The smell of clean clothes, as long as they haven't been put on over smelly pits. How's that?"

"Clean clothes, clean body for Quinn. I'll keep that in mind." Affable as always, Sam raised his eyebrows and shook his head. This didn't happen at his previous all boys school. Girls were still a confounding mystery.

Quinn was relieved. No more overwhelming cologne. She looked him over, noticing the small smirk he'd let creep onto his face.

Quinn rolled her eyes, taking a very good guess that Sam had let his mind wander to thoughts of Quinn actually seeing his clean body. And vice versa. Boys, she thought once again exasperated. She didn't bother chastising him.

She'd been very clear that after last year, there was no way in bloody hell that she was going to be having sex again. At least not anytime soon. No fucking way. In fact that was very close to what she had said to him. He said he understood. She sighed, wondering if that was the case or not.

"Well, I've got to get to re-skimming Frankenstein for discussion groups for class tomorrow. So, after practice today, so I'll just – "

"You're telling me to go to practice and shower off this body spray because it's making you want to hoark up right here, and that you'll see me tomorrow."

She laughed, and touched her index to her nose "Ding ding ding. Pretty much. Can't put one over on you private school boy."

"Yeah, yeah" he grumped. "I'll text you later."

"Okay."

She hoisted her backpack and headed to the car, in a better mood, Schuester's 'list' out of her mind for the moment.

* * *

"What is Mr. Schue up to?" Rachel asked.

"Who knows? No good? This is so not cool. He is going to get everyone riled up again. If he makes me sing with Puck, that is just stupid. We moved past a lot of stuff. And I don't see how me sere- serotonin—him would do anybody any good except make us both feel like jackasses."

"Serenade, Finn. Seratonin is a drug…never mind. Anyway, if Mr. Schue thinks it will be good for team unity, I think we owe it to him, and ourselves, as a team, to try.

"Yeah, we'll see how you feel tomorrow when you're signed up to sing with Santana or better yet Quinn." Finn retorted

"Well, if it would make Santana stop being a bitch to me a good deal of the time, I will happily sing 'Give Peace a Chance' at the top of my lungs to her."

Finn chuckled and looked at her. Her eyes were wide and sincere. She was laughing, but she was dead serious, and said so. "Finn, believe me, I am."

"I know you are babe. I just hope it all goes down that easy."

* * *

Will Schuester sat at home with a beer, looking over his list. He half expected Rachel Berry to show up to try to influence his decision. But he had it pretty well worked out already. He just couldn't decide on a couple of them. And he couldn't decide whether he would give them any explanation as to why he'd chosen them, or if he should just let them try to figure it out.

He finished his beer, happy with his list and his decision. He decided he'd let them figure out the wherefore and whys. They were good kids. Smart kids. Well most of them. And the not so smart ones had good hearts. They would probably get more out of it if he just pointed them in the right direction and let them come to their own conclusions.

* * *

It was 10:30 and Quinn was still reading through Frankenstein, and checking the internet for what kind of major themes they would probably be discussing. She'd been trading texts off and on with Mercedes (who was evidently trading texts with Kurt) and Sam half the night.

Mercedes (and Kurt) was all about the ridiculous assignment. She'd finally cut them off at 9:30 explaining she had to get her work done, but gave her thoughts on the matter.

She told Mercedes (though a ridiculously laborious series of texts) that if she had to guess as to whom Mercedes would be paired with based on various criteria, it might be 1) Mike because she never hung out with him. 2) Berry because lets face it, those two mixed okay now outside glee, but in glee they still clashed. Or 3) maybe someone like Brittany from the original 'popular' kids clique if that was the game Schuester was playing.

"Food for thought…" was the last thing Mercedes texted.

Then there was Sam who was apparently in the mood to pester her. Which could be cute sometimes. But she wasn't in the mood, so she shut it down early, which he took with his usual good grace.

Now she was back to themes and motifs. And so far, Frankenstein certainly had 'downer' written all over. Man's inhumanity to man. Awesome. She made a sarcastic thumbs up to nobody, and tossed the book on the floor. She rolled over to set her alarm before turning out the light. Burrowing down in her clean fresh smelling sheets, she mulled over what she had just researched. Nooo, that didn't hit too close to home or anything. Cruelty to those who are different. Injustice towards outsiders. What fun highlights.

She pulled the covers over her head.

Yep. Things had been going along too smoothly for Quinn Fabray. Therefore was absolutely no doubt in her mind that she was going to be paired with Rachel Berry.

* * *

She slept fitfully, to say the least. Her night filled with bizarre dreams weaving in out of the Glee club and Rocky Horror characters. Erotic dreams.

It was all mixed up and bizarre. She heard and watched herself performing as Dr. Frank-N-Furter. She had to admit she thought she looked pretty hot in the leather and heels, and she had the voice for the part. But as that dawned on her dream self, that self that knows you're dreaming, she also started to of realize of course that Finn and Berry were Brad and Janet still.

Self-aware dream Quinn addressed her apparently twisted subconscious.

**Thanks so much. Like I needed this. **

Oh, but onward she went.

_Frank-N-Furter/Quinn suddenly found herself in a dimly lit bedroom hovering over a lightly dozing Janet/ Rachel Berry clad only a matching lacy mauve panties and bra. She looked flushed. And inviting._

**Oh shit, oh shit oh shit. This is where Frank-N-Furter seduces Janet and then Brad. Why, oh why did she actually watch the whole film? They weren't going to even do this part for the show that was cancelled! Damn Kurt for having them over to watch it! Well at least Janet/Rachel is in her underwear and not the dowdy clothes she wore to the castle. And at least it isn't Brad/Finn. Wait, what? What? Crap. What the fuck?**

**Oh. My. God. Must. Wake. Up. Now. Please? Don't do it! **

_Frank-N-Furter/Quinn moved lithely, seductively and inexorably down towards the sleeping form below her. She felt the warmth of the lips underneath her own, but did not quite touch them. She smelled a wonderful vanilla-ish smell. She slowly brushed her lips against the full ones, urging them awake. The full lips started to move and respond to hers, now parting, soft and moist. And she, no Frank-N-Furter felt flushed as warmth coursed through her. She raised her hand to brush through the long dark hair. The dream Rachel, no, Janet reached to caress her face while her other hand reached down between them, clearly reaching for something the fingers were never going to find. When they slid down, ghosting across her stomach, running down further to the leather they pressed into softness, there were was a moan, hers. She watched as brown eyes opened in brief shock. But the hand on her continued to press and move. She, no Frank-N-Furter was helpless to stop herself, and she looked back into dark eyes, and saw them smirk knowingly. She felt a hand on the back of her neck as she was pulled down into another kiss. Even as she felt like she was giving in, She/Quinn/Frank-N-Furter felt triumphant somehow._

"_MMMMmmmm L.A. proved too much for the man_…" crooned out of her ipod dock alarm clock.

She sat bolt upright. Sweating, heart pounding and flushed. Feeling caught somehow. She stayed stock still, thanking Gladys Knight and the Pips _Midnight Train to Georgia_ for having finally interrupted the dream. Nightmare. Not dream. Interrupting the nightmare.

"_A super star but he didn't get far_…" sang the Pips.

Quinn was still sitting upright in bed. Processing.

"_I've got to go, I've got to, go I've got to go, my world, his world, our world_" faded away as the song ended, and still Quinn still had not moved. It wasn't until the strains of a Kings of Leon's Fans started up that she shook her head and got out of bed and headed to the shower.

Where the HELL did THAT come from. That was all she could think of as she washed her hair.

* * *

Finn picked up Rachel early at Rachel's request because of course she was eager to see who Mr. Schue had paired her with. She tried not to hope for or be against anyone specific. Okay, she did hope not Mike, but that was only because he couldn't really sing, not because she didn't care to find out more about him.

She fidgeted while Finn looked for parking.

"Rach, I can drop you off if you're that eager to see."

"No, no, that's silly."

"Rach, I think that's what you want. You're about to have fit."

"Okay, maybe—"

He sighed and pulled up to the closest entrance to the choir room.

"That's fine, I'll be right behind you."

She leaned over to peck him on the cheek and hopped out of the car and headed at double-time for the entrance.

She pushed open the heavy doors to the atrium that held the choir room, only to run smack into Kurt and Mercedes. Kurt sighed dramatically and ran his hand through his hair, huffing out a sigh.

"Don't bother Rachel. It's not up yet. Seems Mr. Schue put it up, but Coach Sylvester has confiscated it until she can review and approve this" he raised his hands to make air quote "little project. How do they keep finding out? I really don't think Santana was spying for her anymore. But you never know with Brittany, could have been a slip up. All Coach would have to do is tempt her into her office with talks of ducks, I swear."

Rachel sighed dramatically and whipped out her phone to text Finn the bad news.

"Well, who do you think you got Kurt?"

Mercedes linked arms with Kurt and leaned around him to address Rachel as they walked back towards the main hall. "Kurt is *hoping* it's Sam of course. But he thinks it might be you. That's what Quinn thought as a possibility. She thinks it could be me and you too. We don't know what Mr. Schue is up to here."

Rachel considered that information, and filed it away, but only offered an uncharacteristically simple "huh."

"Who do YOU think then, Miss Thing with the fabled Sixth Sense?"

"What? Oh, I don't know. I'm trying to have an open mind."

Kurt and Mercedes were both unconvinced. "Uh uh. Spill."

"Well really I am. I have to admit I'd be a little wary if it was Mike, but only because, well you have to agree he is the weakest singer we have. The best dancer maybe? But the weakest singer. Though he is showing improvement. And I heartily approved of him being willing to take on Frank-N-Furter before his parents forbade him."

"Interesting. Okay, I'll buy that. But! I guess we are shit out of luck, as they say. We'll have to wait until later in the day, it would seem."

* * *

Several minutes across town still, Quinn was finally hopping in to her car. She'd stayed in the shower until all the hot water was gone. Still processing and hoping to wash it all away. Her mom finally banged on the bathroom door, apologizing if it appeared she was trying to control her life, but that she thought she really ought to get out of the shower, and get to school.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up has already aired.  
**Rated:** R for language

**A/N: 1/7/11 Hi, I was a dork and deleted a chapter, so had to reupload. This may be a bit different than what it was. I shall be going through to fix them as I can. I post and make lots of edits so I apologize if the quality sucks at the moment. I have 5 chapters to go through. Sorry! Well…still Unbeta'd. Sorry for all mistakes, feel free to point them out. Reviews would still be very much appreciated, as we all know authors live off of them, even part time authors like moi. And I still love popcorn.**

**A/N 2: ****Phew. Work reared it's ugly head. Bah. So, chapters might become fewer. Though reviews do tend to help me stay up later typing after work is accomplished. I'm just sayin. So this chapter was more set up so I can move along over the next few days. On a high note, my girlfriend is making me popcorn on the stove tonight. Yay! No that is not a metaphor or a euphemism. At least not as far as I know…**

Will Schuester sat in a ridiculously tiny little chair across from Sue Sylvester who sat behind her equally ridiculously over-sized mahogany desk in her well-appointed office. He looked across at his antagonist in her black adidas tracksuit, her feet up on the beautiful desk. He dropped his head into his hands, groaning as he rubbed his face in frustration.

"Sue, it's an exercise in empathy. It's a team building—"

Sue put her feet on the ground and leaned forward.

"Will, Will, Will. I took one look at this list and I started to wonder if you're starting some sort of swingers grooming academy in that sound proofed room of yours. I'm looking at these names, and I'm seeing boys paired with boys, and girls paired with girls, and girls paired with boys. Help me out here. Because at the moment, I gotta tell ya, I kinda wanna throw up a little in my mouth. I thought your club was only going to be touchy feeling in the metaphorical sense after Sandy Ryerson got the boot."

When he thought the rant was at least paused, he lifted his head, and was about to speak before he was interrupted again with a smack of Sue's hands on the desk.

"My God Will. Have you learned nothing from me? Nothing? You know, I had better hopes for you this year. Which, granted, isn't saying much. I wanted a _worthy_ opponent to spar with. But if you're bringing empathy into the picture even MORE? I guess I'd better see if I can get your OCD ex-paramour to start up some other touchy feely extra-curricular club. Because you, mon frère, are NEVER going to win Sectionals, let alone Nationals."

Will stood with his hand out.

"Sue. Give me the list. The kids are just going to pick songs to perform based on the partner I've assigned them. I'm trying to get some team unity going."

"Will. I feel sorry for ya. You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make 'em drink. You just have to wait for that horse to die. And then you can't beat them anyway. Take your list, and get out of my office. I have some dead plants in here, and decomposing organic matter. And between that and the unnatural compounds you put in your hair. Well, I don't have to tell you that spells spontaneous combustion. At least according to Bones. Go now."

"Sue. The list. These kids are going to prove you wrong." He took the list, shaking his head and hurrying down the hall and away from the crazy woman.

Quinn pulled her car into the McKinley High lot forgetting that as late as she was, there was no way there would be a spot anywhere nearby. She gave a mournful sigh remembering how the Cheerios used to have preferred parking. HBIC Quinn made an impromptu appearance as she flipped off the innocent (and empty) silver Nissan that was parked in what used to be a reserved Cheerio spot. She zipped (if going 12 mph in a 10 mph zone qualified as zipping) out to the satellite lot, taking note of the sky and the added insult of it looking like rain.

She checked her pony tail for tightness, zipped up her fall coat, grabbed her backpack and her gear bag and started across the parking lot, breaking into a jog. She wanted to sprint because she hated being late. But that lacked all dignity, so she kept to a fast paced jog. She slipped in the side door and headed to first period, smacking her head as she realized she had probably left her copy of _Frankenstein_ on her floor. She'd been a little less than organized as she left this morning because of the—Ah. She caught herself. No. No thinking about why she was so disorganized and late. She was an expert when it came to compartmentalization when she put her mind to it. And so she put her mind into not jogging her memory any further than—drying her hair. Yes. That seemed safe. There we go.

She was definitely late, but not too bad she thought as approached the door to class in the otherwise empty hall. Just a 3 or 4 minutes. Yay me, she thought. She stopped at the edge of the door, and didn't see the teacher at the chalkboard yet, so that was good. She pulled the door open and could now see that everyone had been asked to pull their desks into groups of 4 or 5. She groaned inwardly. The small group discussion of course. Brittany, Sam and Santana were in one group. Sam looked at her and shrugged, and pointed a thumb at the teacher and the blackboard. Apparently he'd assigned groups rather than let the students pick them. She sighed, looking at the board where he could see the names of students in columns. Four students to a column.

Rachel Berry

Kurt Hummel

Mercedes Jones

Quinn Fabray

She pressed her lips together and nodded. Awesome. Just awesome. She made her way over.

"Hey girl" Mercedes made room for another desk by scooting next closer to Kurt, who was looking at her with slight disapproval.

"Quinn, dear, you are perspiring. Glowing is an acceptable state for a woman to arrive in, but I think you're about to move into full on sweating. That is a no no. At least if you're not in the privacy of your own home, and then have at it I suppose."

He smirked at his own cleverness.

She was not amused, and glared at Kurt for that. She did not need anything remotely like what Kurt was intimating running through her head right now. No tinkering with the compartmentalization scheme she had going.

"I ran through the parking lot. I'm just—running late. That's all. Hairdryer." She said it like that would explain it. Hairdryer. Really?

Kurt had caught the glare.

"Ouch, someone's touchy this morning. You know I'm just teasing you honey. Lord knows I don't have anything remotely interesting enough going on in the privacy of my own home that would cause me work up a sweat—well at least not that isn't conjured up in dreamland over night."

Kurt smoothed his hair and sighed heavily. "And then poof, Mr. Tall, Dark, Handsome and Well-Dressed is gone in the morning, fickle thing that he is."

Mercedes slapped his arm and chuckled.

"Hey, I think I've had that dream too—"

Quinn raised a questioning eyebrow at Mercedes as she slid into the available desk. Which was next to Rachel Berry, naturally. Mercedes just shrugged and laughed again.

Rachel scooted closer to Kurt to give her more room.

"Uh Quinn. You do seem a little—flushed? Can I do anything? I have some coconut water in my bag. I'm afraid it's not very cold though."

"No thanks, Berry, I think I'm good. I just need to sit."

While Quinn got her notebook and pen out, Rachel passed out the guide sheet with questions.

**1. Who is the actual monster in Frankenstein?**

**2. Why did Victor create the creature? What responsibilities did Victor, as the creator, have toward his creature? Why did Victor abandon the creature?**

**3. Victor warns Robert that acquiring knowledge can lead to "destruction and infallible misery." What serious consequences might the acquisition of knowledge have?**

**4. One of the novel's tragedies is the inability of characters to recognize the humanity of the creature. What qualities make us human? Which of these qualities does the creature possess? What qualities does he not have?**

**5. What makes the novel a classic? How is the story appropriate for today and our society?**

**6. Choose one of the many film versions of this novel and compare it to the book.**

Quinn looked over the questions while Rachel started writing as she talked. "Well these don't look too difficult."

"Let's see. Number one, who is the actual monster in Frankenstein. Give reasons. Well, obviously the layers of—"

She was cut off by a cacophonous ring. Everyone looked around startled. And then there were 'woots' around the room as soon as the startled students realized it was either a fire alarm or a fire drill.

"All right, all right. Ladies and gentleman, protocol, protocol. Pick up only what is necessary, coats or bags. That's right, let's go. South stairwell. Orderly, and quiet. Let's go."

The students filed down the stairs, stood freezing the in the parking lots, while Quinn again wished for the arrival of Daylights Savings so she wouldn't be shivering with only a coat over her Cheerio uniform on chilly Fall morning.

"Who the hell has a fire drill in first period? I haven't even had time to get sleepy yet?"

Kurt sniffed. "Someone probably pulled the fire alarm. Anybody know what class Puck has this morning? Perhaps he got bored of class compared to the goings on at Juvie?"

"Come on now Kurt, Puck wouldn't—well, he probably didn't do it."

Mr. Conners found them after locking the doors.

"All right then. It seems we are to be robbed of today's chance for discussion. You all will need to get together to discuss these questions before your quiz on Monday. Sorry, but if I don't' stick to my syllabus, especially considering the amount of snow days we had to use last year, I won't have you all prepared for the AP exam when it is time."

"But I have to go out of town this weekend."

"Me too" said another guy.

The teacher rolled his eyes. "Fine then. I'll move the quiz until Tuesday for Marco and Stephan. But Monday we will be starting to cover some of Mary Shelley's husband's work. Ah, Ode to the West Wind.

Santana grumped under her breath "The West Wind can kiss my ass right about now. It's cold as hell balls on a brass monkey out here! And Q, what was with the dramatic entrance this morning? B and I are stuck with your tasty boy toy you know, and—him, monobrow boy."

She pointed to a dark haired kid, who while not possessing a monobrow, did in fact have a rather impressive set of eyebrows. "I don't know his name. But he's going to have to discuss Frankenstein with himself. I am not taking up a weekend night or Monday night in a discussion group with HIM. Damn it. Here he comes."

He stopped and looked at them nervously. "Uh, can I get your phone numbers so we can complete this assignment?"

Santana put her hand on her hip. "When pigs fly out of my—hey!" Quinn elbowed her and gave her the stinkeye.

"Be nice S. It could affect your grade, right?""

Santana glared at her, but noted the proximity of the teacher. She paused, and then a saccharin sweet smile came over her face.

"Q is right. Here, let me see your phone, I'll put my digits in. Call me on Saturday, and I'll pass along the plans to Sam and Britt too." She held out her hand.

The boy looked a bit wary, but happy to have accomplished his mission. "Sure. I won't call too early."

Quinn narrowed her eyes in suspicion, watching Santana with the phone along with a puzzled Sam and Brittany and an equally suspicious Kurt, Mercedes and Rachel.

"Here you go soldier boy." She handed it back to him and winked. He walked away, still nervous.

Quinn decided to find out what was going on. Politeness in Santana was a cause for alarm.

"S. What did you do?" she asked, noticing Santana was not glaring. That was also suspicious.

"I gave him digits like you asked. What? Jeez, Tubbers."

"I don't buy it, you—"

Mr. Connors had been talking to the principal but was strolling back to them now.

"Alright kids, the coast is clear. Back to class, pick up anything you left. Second period starts in 15 minutes so nobody should be late for that period. Let's go."

Santana continued to smile angelically. Brittany smiled with her. Everyone else in the small group looked wary.

Sam leaned over Quinn's shoulder and joked into Quinn's ear.

"Uh, Quinn, Santana doesn't know how to make teeny tiny bombs or anything like that does she?"

"God I hope not" they all answered with her.

"Who knows what Coach taught her while I was off the team last year?" Quinn added only half-jokingly

That thought sobered them as they filed behind the other students. Quinn mentally filed this away to ask Santana about later.

Lost in her thoughts as she followed along, she jumped when she felt a light hand on her shoulder, and chipper voice in her ear, as the smell of vanilla wafted lightly.

"Quinn? Do you need my phone number? I'm not sure if you have it. I mean, I have yours, well I have all of Glee club's numbers, because, well I've always wanted to be prepared for—"

"A Glee Emergency, we know" they all intoned as they trudged along.

Rachel rolled her eyes at all of them, with her hands on her hips. "I'm just trying to be a responsible captain, you know, looking out for the team guys.

Quinn smiled and shook her head. "We know, Rach. Don't worry, we know. As for your number, I'm not sure. Let me check."

That was a lie. She knew she had it. It was under RuPaul. But she didn't want to her to know that. She didn't want to remind herself, or anyone else, how petty she had been. She'd been meaning to change that entry, but somehow she just hadn't gotten around to it yet.

Maybe it was easier to try to change behavior and pretend something never happened than it was to be confronted with proof of her own pettiness.

She went ahead with the charade and whipped out her phone and pretended to scan the contacts, "Hm, yeah I don't see it here" and she quickly deleted the RuPaul entry. She turned to Rachel.

"Why don't you just text me, and I'll add it to my contacts if it's not already in there somewhere?"

"Oh, okay, that's fine. I'll wait until lunch time."

"Whenever."

The rest of the day seemed to drag on. Quinn ended up next to Rachel in Government again. She could tell Rachel was a little a ball of stress. She was fidgety.

"Berry, you're positively twitchy. Chill. What's got your panties in a twist?"

Quinn lowered her brows bit her lip, mad at herself. Panties. Why did she have to mention panties?

"Oh come on. It's Mr. Schue's partner list of course. Don't you want to know who you're paired up with?"

"Me? Whatever. I'm resigned to my fate, whatever it is."

"Well, that is a rather dour outlook."

"I just mean I'll work with whoever it is, it will be fine I'm sure, right?"

"Well I'm happy to hear you have a good outlook then, Quinn."

Well, she thought privately, I wouldn't go that far.

The class moved slowly for Quinn, but especially for Rachel she could tell. She spent much of her time glancing at the clock. 27 times in the last 10 minutes in fact. Not that Quinn was hyper-aware of the other girl today or anything. Still, Quinn was amused by the smaller girl's obvious antsy demeanor. "So Berry, guess they're wrong about that whole 'Time flies when you're having fun' thing."

The smaller girl turned to look at her, whispering back "I guess I'm a little fidgety today, huh?"

"A little, Berry? Please. You're about to explode! It'll be time for lunch and you can see if the list is up soon. Staring at the clock will not make this class end any quicker. I've tried. Believe me."

She grimaced. "Okay, I'm a lot fidgety. I'm sorry if it's been annoying you." But then she shrugged and whispered at her.

"I know 'the watched pot never boils and all that, and yet—"

Quinn shook her head and smiled a little at the other girl's anxiousness over the whole thing. Life, in the last 24 hours had suddenly felt extremely easy to predict as far as Quinn was concerned. Basically, if it could fuck with Quinn's happy little equilibrium, then it was going to come to pass. Having accepted that, she was just trying to be philosophical about it.

"I know. On top of that? 'Time is an illusion. Lunchtime doubly so.'"

"Hm…that doesn't sound like Sun Tzu."

"Decidedly not. Douglas Adams. Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy."

"Ah, a tome of wisdom for the ages?"

"Abso-friggin-lutely."

"Well what would you—"

And finally, the bell rang.

Rachel looked startled, and then went getting her belongings together.

Quinn tilted her head. "See you later. Berry, hope the list is to your liking."

The little diva looked up as she zipped the last pocket closed. "Thanks Quinn, you too." She smiled and continued. "Also? I guess time really does fly when you're having fun after all."


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up has already aired.  
**Rated:** R for language

**A/N: Yup! still Unbeta'd. The whippets don't catch too many grammar mistakes, sorry. So… still sorry for all mistakes, feel free to point them out. Reviews would still be very much appreciated, as we all know authors live off of them, even part time authors like moi. And I still love popcorn.**

**A/N 2: ****Friday! Whee! So. To glee, or not, to Glee. Anyone? Is it G or g? I can never decide. And what the hell? Also, the Judybats sing Ugly on the Outside. And I did NOT get popcorn made by my gf last night. Grr. I have to make it myself today I guess. Hmph.**

Standing front and center, staring at the cork board next to the door with everyone at lunchtime Rachel kept her hands behind her back, trying not to wring them. Quinn kept her hands clasped in front of her and nodded slowly in resignation and shrugged giving way to Artie who had just rolled up.

Artie / Santana

Brittany / Tina

Finn / Sam

Kurt / Puck

Mike / Mercedes

Rachel / Quinn

No trading

There were rumblings.

"Tubbers and Manhands. Together Again World Tour. Rock on!" Santana quipped, making the universal rock on sigh with both her hands. Puck fist-bumped her. She rolled her eyes at Quinn. "Shocker." Quinn returned the look arching her eyebrow.

Santana shrugged and walked over and high-fived Artie.

Puck looked at Kurt. Kurt looked at Puck. Puck shrugged. "Whatever dude. I'm man enough for this."

"I hope you're not implying I'm not."

"Who me?" Puck gave him a slap on the back that made Kurt's head bob. Kurt smoothed his hair and tried to look dignified.

Sam and Finn looked slightly uncomfortable, Finn more so, and he put more space between himself and the blond.

Brittany smiled and walked over next to Tina. Tina smiled shyly. Mercedes sauntered over to Mike. "Mike, just so you know, serenading me with a dance won't cut it." Mike raised his hands defensively. "I wouldn't dream of it. You might be sorry though."

Quinn was watching Rachel surreptitiously. The diva been standing there quietly, her arms crossed arms. She then raised one hand and cupped her chin in her hand, her eyes narrowed, but her face was otherwise impassive.

Quinn watched as tiny girl's freakishly tall boyfriend walked up to her from behind and put his hands on her shoulders. He bent over and kissed her on the cheek and murmured something, and she nodded her head.

Quinn felt a tug of annoyance watching that, but she wasn't sure why. Then Finn walked around to the other side of the girl and hugged her. While he was hugging her, he put a look of sympathy on his face meant for Quinn. That was actually even a little more annoying. She might have let a little of that irritation show on her face, she wasn't sure.

But she put on her bored look as saw the other girl turning around to face her, as she addressed her former nemesis.

"Well Quinn. I—look forward to working with you."

Quinn's lip twitched a little wanting to pull into a cynical smile, and she let the bored look drop away a little. She arched her ever-expressive brow at the smaller girl. "I can tell. Try to contain your excitement Berry. I don't think my less than perfect pitched voice will cause any permanent damage to ears with just one song."

"Of course not I— just. I'm sure you will put on a fine performance of me. I just— oh never mind."

"Fine?"

"I didn't mean. Argh. I just don't know what the point of this is. What was Mr. Schue thinking?"

"Maybe he is just bored with the relative harmony around here. I don't know" she shrugged.

"Maybe Sue Sylvester suggested this maniacal 'plan'"

Kurt piped up. "Yes, that thought did occur me, and I already asked him about that this morning. He said no."

Sam spoke up at last. "Look guys, I wasn't here last year, so I don't know all the ins and outs here, but maybe we should just get working on this. Mr. Schue seems like he knows you all pretty well, and he has the best interest of the club in mind."

Artie chimed in at that. "Says the boy who was asked to wear gold lame underwear just last week?"

"Fair enough," Sam admitted. "I'm just saying, let's just get this over with, and maybe it will be good for everyone.

Santana scoffed. "Dude, you are like one of those idiots that go around picking up big rocks, and then are surprised that creepy stuff lives under there, aren't you?"

He shook his head with frustration and sighed. "Look, I don't want to overstep any bounds here. So I give up." He put his hands in his pocket and changed the subject. "I'm hungry. Lunch is over in 20 minutes, so I'm going to eat. How about you Quinn?"

Quinn nodded as she joined him. "Yep. History in 20 minutes, and I'm on the other side of the building."

The rest of the group started to break up and head off, except for Puck. Rachel watched them go, resisting the urge to call out to Quinn about getting together later to discuss their assignment. Finn's gargantuan hand was on her shoulder.

Puck sidled up Rachel and Finn, slicking his hand over his Mohawk. "Dude, can I put in a request for a little Butthole Surfers for golden surfer boy?"

Finn giggled a little. "That's not funny." Okay, it's a little funny. You said butthole."

Rachel first glared at Finn and then put her hands on her hips in her best 'I'm about to scold you' stance, and proceeded to do just that. "Noah, did you make that up? That would not be appropriate. NOR would it be appropriate for Kurt. You had better not be thinking of that."

"Ha, Berry, they are an old school punk band, so it's legit."

"Noah…"

When the diva did not change her stance or her attitude Puck pouted.

"Fine. No Butthole Surfers. One of them was a Jew you know! So yeah. What the hell am I supposed to do then?"

Rachel smiled and explained slowly. "Well, you need to get together with Kurt like Mr. Schue says. And…if it turns out that Kurt is in fact a secret lover of Butthole Surfer music, which I DOUBT, then I suppose you could pick one of their songs."

"Fine. Fine. You suck all the fun out of things sometimes, you know that Berry?"

The diva smiled in triumph. "Finn, I have to get to class. And you and Noah had better get to your class too."

Quinn jerked out of her daze. History was going by slowly, and uneventfully. She looked at the clock. Then she looked over at Rachel, who was also looking at the clock, and she smiled a little, amused. Rachel caught her looking at her and smiling, so she looked away. Oh that was mature Quinn, she thought to herself.

-When she moved on to Chemistry, Santana was there already. She sat down and immediately the Latina eagerly pulled her desk closer to Quinn's giving her a gleeful look. "So?"

"So what?"

"What're you going to sing for Stubbles? I saw this great title on one of my brother's old mix CDs called "Ugly on the Outside."

Quinn tilted her head and shook with a sigh. "San, I'm not going to sing anything like that. I mean, why would I? WHY would I want to stir up a world of shit again? You know you what you are? You are a shit-stirrer. Santana Lopez, Supreme Shit-Stirrer-Upper! Jesus S! Are you bored or something? Is B still holding out on you or something" She smirked, hoping that shut the other girl up.

"Whoa, uncalled for. You're spicy today aren't you? So what the hell Q, are you freakin' Mother Teresa outside the bedroom too now? You, and I, I might add, are doing the good deed of our high school careers as it is by stopping the slushie attacks on Manhands. I think that's enough goody goody for us, don't you?"

Q looked at her and waited.

Fine. Yes, I'm bored. And yes, B is still a bit peeved with me. But come ON, Q. I know you. Don't you still have a tiny piece of you down deep that is mad she is with Finn?"

Quinn looked up to the ceiling and thought. No, she was not mad about Finn. She could honestly say she wasn't interested in Finn.

"S. Finn is a man-boy. Puck is a man-whore. Sam is…well, Sam is none of those things. I'm quite content with Sam."

"Riiiight. You guys are like Ken and Barbie. Are you sure you still have all your girl parts and Sam his boy parts? Because I've seen Sam's body, or his chest at least. And it's sweet. Not as sweet as mine. But sweet." Santana stopped and paused for effect. "If it was me? MY bed would be on fire with passionate love."

"Yeah, I'm sure the neighbors would be complaining about the noises above. I get it S. You are a ho bag. You are a ho bag who is talking about jumping my boyfriend. Why is this sounding a tad familiar? Me? I'm not jumping into sex again. YOU didn't push a bowling bowl out of YOUR va-jay-jay, now did you?"

A tiny little girl shaped bowling ball that she carried around for nine months. She sighed.

"Q. Just—lighten up."

"Oh shut it. I am S. Or I was. I really don't know what Mr. Schue was trying to accomplish. As far as I'm concerned, wonderful caring teacher that he has been, he is a big shit-stirrer right now too. I don't know why he couldn't have left well enough alone. I see Berry four times a freakin' day, and we are quite civil, even pleasant. What does he want from me?"

"Maybe HE is bored."

The kids were all in their regular clumps when Will walked in.

"Okay. Does anybody have any questions about the assignment?"

Rachel's hand shot up high and straight, and several other voices started talking over one another.

"Whoa whoa, hang on. Let me say a few things first and maybe that will clear some things up."

Rachel slowly lowered her hand.

"So. You have your assignments. The ground rules are pretty simple. Do whatever you want within the spirit of what I'm asking. Team building and unity. If two partners want to sing together, that's fine. You can collaborate. But there needs to be two songs done. And there needs to be some context. If you don't want to rehearse them together, and it's a 'surprise' so to speak when you perform, and you have both agreed, that's fine too. You don't have to give an introduction if you don't want, but you may. If you don't want to speak, I may have a question or two when you're through. But maybe not. I DO expect you to get together at least twice, as I said yesterday. Other than that, I do want this to be as free flowing as possible and open to interpretation as I can make it, within the construct.

Finn looked puzzled and scrunched up his. "What's a construct?

Rachel sighed inwardly, and mentally shook her head at her boyfriend's question.

Brittany was befuzzled also. "Isn't everyone going to sing inside? Why would anyone want to sing outdoors in the winter anyway? It's too early for caroling isn't it Tina?"

Santana answered her quietly, even though the question was addressed to Tina. She wished B would stop punishing her.

"Yes B. It's too early for caroling. But I will take you when it's time if you want?"

Quinn smirked a bit. She always was amused when Santana showed her softer side when it came to Brittany. Not for the same reason she used to, because it presented her with a soft underbelly to attack. More because it was just cute and sweet that her friend could actually get all warm and fuzzy over anybody at all.

After rehearsal, Quinn could see Rachel approaching her out of the corner of her eye, so she took a deep breath.

"Hey Berry, you never did text me." It was true, she'd checked a few times after lunch.

"I'm sorry; I didn't want to get my phone out during class. Hang, on I'll send it right now, and you can add me…?"

"I'm a'twitter with excitement" she quipped, softening it with an almost undetectable smile.

"Rachel Barbra Berry. Got it. You have now been granted a spot on my SIM card. Feel free to feel honored…"

"My life from this moment forward has new meaning. You don't have to use the Barbra you know."

"I know, Berry, I was kidding."

"Oh. Sorry."

"Well, I guess we should try to get together this weekend? We're supposed to discuss Frankenstein with Mercedes and Kurt too, if you recall. I mean you probably have plans, but maybe you're free during the day."

"Sure that sounds fine. I sleep in on Saturdays, so no like...calling at the butt crack of dawn or anything."

"Certainly not. I have—plans in the morning actually."

"Plans? Cryptic much? Okay then. Well—have your people call my people then?"

Rachel grinned. "Absolutely."

Sam watched this whole exchange, bemused and interested. They had an interesting dynamic, those two.

He walked over to Finn. Hey man. Uh, maybe we can grab some pizzas sometime this weekend?

"Sure dude. Call the house any time. Maybe you and me and Kurt and Puck can hit some Call of Duty?" He looked at Kurt, who sighed.

"I'll make some food while you Neanderthals play."

Sam grinned. That was easy, he thought. Why can't girls just do that, he wondered?

"Alright guys. Coach Bieste wants us there on time, so let's hustle." Puck grabbed Artie's wheel chair.

"Let's roll."

"Puck, has anyone ever told you that you have a rapier wit?"

"No dude."

"I'm shocked," Artie deadpanned.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up has already aired.  
**Rated:** R for language

**A/N: Well…still Unbeta'd. I still love popcorn. Thanks everyone for the reviews and comments. They make me feel warm and fuzzy.**

**A/N 2: ****Well, here is more buildup. I know some of you may not like my pairings. I wasn't always sure who I was going to pick except a few. I figure it will stretch my imagination. Which is my way of saying on SOME of them… at the moment, dog is my co-pilot, and I frankly don't have a plan per se. Or if I did, it has escaped me for the moment. But! That is not the case with Rachel/Quinn and a few others never fear. Although I have detoured more than I envisioned. : ) **

**Also, I promise I will not make a habit of utilizing text conversation, esp. not to this extent. It is laborious. And I refuse to use 'txt spk 4 u guys' Sorry. I don't do it in real life either! Yes, I spell things out. I need an android or an iphone, dammit.**

**

* * *

**

Quinn pulled into her driveway at 5:15. Friday night for McKinley students when there was no football game or basketball game was not exactly wild and crazy affair. Sure there were parties. Puck could usually round one up. But she didn't go very often, and if she did, she made sure Mercedes or Sam rode shotgun with her, and not just Santana and Brit. If she were ever to find herself at a party where there was a fight, there was no one she would want to have over Santana to have her back. No one. But Santana would be utterly useless helping keep Quinn out of trouble at one of Puck's parties. She liked to think she'd evolved sufficiently to make intelligent decision, like oh...NOT sleep with Sam, or any other boy because she felt a little chunky that day. And while she was almost positive that was the case, why tempt fate?

Her ass was dragging after Coach Sylvester's 'voluntary' practice. And she was pretty sure the guys would rather have skipped Coach Beiste's mandatory practice she'd called for Friday afternoon. The football team was doing half decently for once, and she didn't want them to become complacent.

She opened the back door of her house into the mud room. It was a little more homey coming through that entrance rather than the imposing double front door with the huge lion head knocker. Now that she shared it only with her mom, it was a little less on the inside as well. She hung up her coat before heading on into the kitchen to see if her mom had left her a note. She had.

**Beef stroganoff in the fridge.  
Drink your milk.  
Back after Bridge.  
Love mom**

Quinn shook her head and smiled. Judy had been really good about not trying to direct Quinn's life. There had been a smack down moment or two the first few months. But eventually her mom realized that her daughter, despite one admittedly large lapse in judgment, actually had a pretty good head on her shoulders as far as staying out of trouble.

So a small directive to drink her milk really didn't bother her so much. Besides, she thought as she opened the fridge and grabbed it, she liked milk.

She heard her phone vibrating in the living room, so she grabbed a glass, and brought the quart of milk with her the living room. Grabbing her phone and pouring the milk, she looked at the incoming text. It was from Sam. She had half expected it to be from Rachel Berry. Which would be fine. It would be something new after all, right? And, well, Berry had been less annoying in general lately. She was downright entertaining yesterday in Government. Not that it took much to be entertained in that class. But still it would be nice to get tomorrow's plans settled.

She plopped down on the couch with the milk and opened her text from Sam.

**Sam: **_Movie? Dinner? Dinner and a movie?_  
**Quinn: **_Dinner I'm eating now. Movie, could be? Pretty tired, so no epics_  
**Sam: **_Got it. No Godfather. Genre?_

Quinn appreciated he actually knew the word genre. How in the world had she ever dated Finn, she wondered for the hundredth time. She still wondered how someone as smart as Rachel Berry dated him frankly. Shaking her head, she texted Sam back.

**Quinn: **_Indie? Comedy? 6:30 sounds good_  
**Sam: **_See you then… : )_

She slid the phone shut, hopped up with the milk and went to heat up her dinner. Sam was pretty punctual. She also liked that about him.

* * *

"What do you mean?" Sam was incredulous.

Quinn shook her head. "I'm sorry, there is NO way that Zach Braff would bag someone as hot as Natalie Portman in real life. He may be funny, but dude is a five at BEST. On his funniest bestest Indie/angsty day ever, he would _only_ be a five! And please. Natalie Portman is a ten. Or an eleven. Like always. Even with practically a shaved head!"

"Really? You think so?"

They were sitting on the couch eating popcorn, Sam had his arm around her. He'd smelled blessedly like clean clothes and not Axe. She pulled out of his embrace to look at him fully in the face, her forehead crinkled up.

"Sam, are you trying to be diplomatic here because you don't want to sound like you think Natalie Portman is hot in front of me? In which case I would applaud your gallantry." She smiled at him. "However, if that is NOT the case, then I'm wondering how you manage to catch a football ever, because clearly you are blind if you think Zach Braff is as hot as Natalie Portman."

"Really?" Sam grinned.

"You're being coy I see. I'm just saying a lot more women would go gay for Natalie Portman than men would for Zach Braff."

"Are you saying you'd go gay for Natalie Portman? I mean, I hate to go all Puckzilla on you, but…that's hot." Sam laughed at her. Quinn blushed a little and whacked him playfully.

She shook her head. "Nooo, that is not what I said." Still, she could feel her neck and face coloring up. "I'm just making a point."

"If you say so, I'm just curious how long you've had a thing for dark haired, dark-eyed umnf." He was cut off as Quinn leaned in to kiss him impulsively. Nothing else seemed like it was going to stop this ridiculous line of questioning that she had so foolishly got herself into.

He pulled back. "Okay! You win. Natalie Portman is too hot for Zach Braff." She grinned and looked at him, and back down to his lips before moving in to kiss him again. He had such nice soft lips. Almost like her own she imagined, like a girl's would be, she thought as she brushed against them.

Whoa now. What the hell was that, her brain screamed at her. She pulled back like she'd been shocked.

"Is everything okay? What? Do I have popcorn in my teeth?"

"No, uh I mean yeah, there I got it is sorry. Come here. "

He smiled and leaned in to kiss her. She closed her eyes and kissed back.

Pep-talking herself, she relaxed some. Okay now. Kissing Sam. Nice, lovable blond, football player Sam. Here we go.

She moved back in and kissed him gently. She was getting more into the spirit of the thing now. Okay, that's more like she thought. Much better than Finn, and Puck. Finn was always fumbling around and too timid. On the other hand, Puck always knew exactly what he was going to do next. Every move was planned and directed and forceful.

Sam was more giving, and more like a girl. Her mind filled with an image of dark eyes and full lips and dark hair. Long dark hair, not a Mohawk.

She knew it was in her head, but she was certain she actually could hear ridiculous cartoon sound effects brakes squealing and breaking glass. She jerked away and sucked in her breath chastising herself. What? I am in a freakin' Roadrunner cartoon?

"Ow, hey, I'm sorry. Is everything okay?"

She was perspiring. Or glowing if Kurt preferred. And her heart was racing. But it wasn't because of what Sam was doing to her.

Embarrassed for reasons Sam was completely unaware she lied.

"I'm such an idiot, I uh bit myself, I'm…uh, sorry."

Sam looked puzzled but concerned. "Ooh, ouch. I'm sorry. Oookay, well, uh. Okay then. I'd say maybe try rinsing with hydrogen peroxide? It helps me when I've done the same thing in a football game." He was still puzzled how she'd managed to bite herself, but wasn't going to question it. Maybe he'd spooked her. "Uh, the movie is over, maybe I should head out and return it. Your mom will be home soon anyway."

They stood up, and she busied herself smoothing her shirt. He leaned forward and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "G'night Quinn. Get some good sleep. Sounds like you have a Big Weekend O' Berry ahead of you.

She cocked her head and gave him 'the look'.

"Alright, alright. Just kidding. Let me know if you need backup. I'll probably hook up with Puck, Finn and Kurt for some death and dismemberment. And maybe hors d'oeuvres?" He grinned cheekily.

"Well if I know Rachel Berry, she will bring cupcakes out the wazoo when she comes over, so I probably won't be starving either. And at least I've evolved enough to eat the damn things. A year ago, I would have been having protein shakes, and feeling fat for just looking at a cupcake."

Sam looked down at his feet and back up, sheepish.

She eyed him closely. "Uh huh. You're going to hit the gym extra hard because of the pizza you ate, aren't you?"

He scrunched his face up. "-Maybe?"

She sighed. "Well I will probably go running in the morning, so I can't throw rocks at glass houses here. Just don't go crazy, k?

"Yes ma'am."

She shut the door behind him, a little too glad to see him go. But a little tense about the prospect of being left with her own thoughts after the 24 hours she'd just had. Despite her attempts at compartmentalization, she had become an intensely introspective person since Babygate.

"This is so not cool" she said aloud to the empty house.

It was just before nine p.m. She had been going to wait up for her mom, but at the moment, she just wanted to retreat to her room.

Climbing into bed, she picked up the Frankenstein book. Looking at it, then over at her phone. She was half-toying with the idea of calling Berry. Just to finalize plans tomorrow and all of course.

A minute passed as she looked at it, sorted through the short texts from Santana.

**Santana: **_Are the neighbor's complaining yet?_

Seconds later another arrived.

**Santana: **_Do I need to call the fire department? All that passionate love?_

Quinn grimaced. Her weapon of choice was often her withering stare. And that didn't work over texts. She finally came up with the incredibly excoriating rejoinder:

**Quinn: **_Don't be a dweeb._

Seconds later she got a reply.

**Santana: **_Lmfao. Please. You never win this game. Bow down to me now_.

It was true. She didn't. She supposed it was because somehow she had trouble actually typing out insults. She grabbed her phone again. It was too late to call, but, maybe she'd text Berry. To try to finalize plans of course.

**Quinn: **Berry. [backspace][backspace][backspace][backspace][backspace][backspace][backspace][backspace]  
_Hey Rachel, it's Quinn. Did you have a time in mind tomorrow?_

She sent another follow up text quickly.

**Quinn: **_p.s. sorry if this is too late_

She sent Santana another text.

**Quinn: **_Oh shut it biotch_

Santana replied instantly.

**Santana: **_Ooh, better. But that's Queen Biotch to you__**.  
**_**Quinn: **_One word. Pyramid. Play nice with your Captain, paybacks are hell  
_

Her phone dinged. She had it set to vibrate for most of her friends. The ding meant it was using default settings, so the text was probably from Rachel. She tapped her fingers nervously before opening the text.

**Rachel:** _Hi Quinn. I hope you are having a nice evening. Any time after 11 a.m.?  
_**Rachel:** _p.s. also, no it is not too late. Just watched movie with dads/Finn_

Quinn smiled. She couldn't help herself.

**Quinn: **_Let me guess. Funny Girl?  
_**Rachel:** _Ha ha. V for Vendetta_.  
**Quinn: **_No way. You like? Watched Garden State w/Sam  
_**Rachel:** _Yes, I liked. Dads liked. Finn not so much. He slept.  
_**Quinn: **_My sympathies_.

Another text came in from Santana.

**Santana: **_Ignoring me? Fine. How was Blond Boy Wonder this evening? Did you at least make out?_

She sighed.

**Quinn: **_It's nunya, but fine, yes we made out. Much better kisser than Finn. Or Puck. btw :p_

And then another came a minute later.

**Santana: **_I will not be ignored, woman. Spill!_  
**Quinn:** _WTF, I just did. That's all you get you nosy perv_  
**Santana:** _Sweetie, either you're delusional, drunk or you texted someone else. Did you just rate Sam and send it to him? lmao_

Quinn froze, as it dawned on her where she must have sent it. She frantically checked her Sent folder, and groaned and banged her head against the headboard. Oh for fucks sake. Shit, shit, shit!

* * *

Rachel sat on her couch and looked at the text that came in. Daddy was asleep on the sofa, and dad was cleaning out the popcorn bowl in the kitchen.

She reread the text.** "**_It's nunya, but fine, yes we made out. Much better kisser than Finn. Or Puck. :p"_

She scrolled back and looked at her Sent folder, and then her Inbox, checking for context. She finally had to conclude she was correct in her initial assessment that the text was not meant for her. She sat like a deer caught in headlights, trying to work out an appropriate response, or if she should just not send anything.

**Rachel:** _Uh_[backspace][backspace]  
_Quinn, I'm not _[backspace][backspace][backspace][backspace][backspace][backspace][backspace][backspace][backspace][backspace][backspace][backspace]  
_Yay for you? Sucks to be me? You win again? _[backspace][backspace][backspace][backspace][backspace][backspace][backspace][backspace][backspace][backspace][backspace][backspace][backspace][backspace]

Rachel sighed. Deleting everything again. No. that was too bitchy. She tried again.

_I'm very happy for you? Maybe he (Sam I assume?) can give Finn pointers? __I would be forever in your debt._

Taking a deep breath, she pushed 'Send', hoping it struck the right balance of understanding and humor. And then she waited.

* * *

Some streets over, Quinn sat in her bed, paralyzed, waiting for a text to arrive. A couple of minutes passed.

**Santana:** Tubbers, what did you send?  
**Quinn:** Nothing. I'll talk to you tomorrow.  
**Santana:** Alright…good luck w/damage control…

She looked at the phone, stalling, trying to decide if she should send an explanation. It dinged and vibrated with a message. And then right away again. Must be a long text. She tensed, nervous.

_**Rachel: **__I'm very happy for you? Maybe he (Sam I assume?) can give Finn pointers? I would be forever in your debt._

Quinn spluttered, laughing. Relieved, she really grinned.

**Quinn:** _We'll see. I only rent him out now and again.**  
Rachel: **__I see. I figured it wouldn't hurt to ask.; ) Perhaps we can come to an arrangement...?  
_**Quinn:** _Lol. __Good night, Berry. : ) After 11 is fine. May go running before. Call me when you're available._

_**Rachel: **__Good night Quinn. Sleep well. : )_

Quinn yawned. She had no idea Bridge would keep her mom out so late. It was good she had a social circle at all, now that her jackass of a dad was gone, so she was glad she had plans.

She rolled over and to turn out the light. So much for reading more on _Frankenstein_. She yawned, and lay back, hoping for dreamless sleep.

* * *

Rachel kissed her dads goodnight and prepared for bed. It felt like a momentous day somehow. She smiled to herself. She was both nervous, and somehow quietly optimistic about tomorrow. She'd never hung out with Quinn alone before. The were no longer enemies, but even though she would say the glee club were her friends, her community, in the broadest sense of the word, she never knew where she stood with Quinn Fabray.

She lay in bed and sighed, wondering if Finn would ever be a better kisser. It was possible right? His singing had improved after all. She was beginning to think letting him get to second base (sort of) might have been a mistake. Now he seemed to be skimping on the kissing part and 'going for the gusto' so to speak. She was afraid that just like with singing, that one either had a natural talent for kissing, or one did not. Improvement was possible of course, just like with voice training. But training wouldn't make up for an innate lack of talent. She put her hands to her lips, barely touching them. She pulled her eyebrows together in consternation. That was a dismaying thought.

* * *

**A/N You know, if you don't feed the Review Monster, it is possible she will chain me to the couch and take away my laptop and then I will be forced to spend Saturday eating popcorn watching soccer and yelling at my TV screen, and making sure the puppy doesn't pull her stitches…all of which is exhausting, and so not write anything at all. ;)  
**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up has already aired.  
**Rated:** R for language

**A/N: Well…still Unbeta'd. Sorry for all mistakes, feel free to point them out. Reviews would still be very much appreciated, as we all know authors live off of them, even part time authors like moi. And I still love popcorn.**

**A/N 2: ****Okay, this chapter is a bit all over the place and perhaps chunky. It was a trying day. Now in addition making sure youngest whippet does not pull stitches, I have to watch the middle whippet who has somehow injured her neck. Shaking her Frisbee. By HERSELF. Weird. Anyway, visit to vet, and now she can't be walked on normal leash for 3 weeks! This blows in general and really blows my go to office this week plan.. So…maybe no hiatus from writing after all. But, you'll have to forgive me if chapters don't flow as well. I have to hop up and walk somebody, or carry somebody somewhere. At least one is on drugs and is sleeping happily now. Cheers! **

**Also, I'm having issues with the dividing lines showing up (at least for me..) sorry!  
**

**A/N 3: The 5 mile list exhausts my list of techno songs I know by name, or will listen to. They are not my milieu, but gf's. I like'em in the gym, but she likes to drive to them..oddly, they make me fall asleep in the car. I really do like Running On by Villa Nah though. Have a listen if you're wondering why it ticks off Quinn when she's trying to clear her head.  
**

* * *

Quinn drifted off to a deep restful sleep. Close to dawn, she turned and looked at the clock. Ah. Only 5:40. She smiled because had plenty of time, and snuggled back down into her comforter warm and content. She loved her flannel plaid blue and green comforter cover. She'd brought it out just last week when it got cold enough. She loved the first time she used it every year. So warm. So cozy. Ah. She drifted off to sleep again.

_It was just after first period, and she wandered down the hall. She'd been wondering where Rachel was so they could discuss Frankenstein, but she hadn't been there.. She was in warm fleece and jeans. Which is how she knew she was dreaming. _

**Jesus Mary and Joseph. Really? Am I really having this dream? I don't even like Britney Spears!**

_And yet. Rachel Berry appeared from around the corner into the hallway, strutting her stuff in a short little plaid blue and green kilt. Her 'school girl' blouse open almost down to her midriff. Hm. She has nice abs._

**Stop it! Infantilization and sexualization of schoolgirls by the media is just…ew.**

_As if to taunt her, and to say 'is this better?' her subconscious put Rachel in a simple black dress with thin straps. Dream Rachel addressed her. "Thank you Quinn. That outfit made me feel dirty"_

**Yes, that's better. I mean no. I don't care. I mean wake up!**

_Dream Rachel in the cocktail dress glided towards her effortlessly until she was within touching distance. She reached out to touch Quinn's hair and push it behind her ears._

"_See? You're even more beautiful when you smile."_

**Am I smiling? ****Was she smiling?  
**

_Rachel moved in closer until Dream Quinn could feel her breath on her ears, tickling them and making the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She was whispering something, in her ear, something she couldn't quite hear. Then she pulled back and looked at her with questioning eyes. She felt herself nod, and Rachel smiled, and stretched out her hand and pulled Quinn slowly towards her as she moved backwards._

**Wait, what did she say? What did I just agree to? Where am I going. Ohhh No No No…**

_The scene changed to Quinn's bedroom, where Rachel was spread out on her blue and green comforter, crooking a finger at her and smiling._

**What the hell have I been reading or watching?**** Look. Just because I don't want to see Rachel Berry in argyle does NOT mean I want to see her in nothing at all! Fine. Whatever.**

_Dream Quinn, no longer in jeans and fleece, climbed onto the bed, holding herself above mauve panty set clad Rachel. She felt her mouth break into a slow smile as she bent over and nuzzled her neck, and ran a hand up the exposed skin of her stomach. She kissed the neck, feeling hands in her hair pulling her up. She brought her right hand up and reached out brushing her thumb pad over full lips. She lowered her head until she barely brushed the lips. The hands in her hair pulled her closer, and the lips beneath hers opened and deepened the kiss. A light mewling sound came from one of them. She broke off the kiss for air, and looked down into dark eyes, which were twinkling with mischief. Before she knew it she found herself flipped onto her back and a laughing Rachel was on top of her, kissing her everywhere, scraping her teeth across skin, lightly here, rougher there, moving lower down her torso, She felt warm breath on her abdomen, which was tight with anticipation. She felt the soft tickle of long dark hair spread out across her quads, and the feel of it twined around her fingers._

**Whoa! Whoa Nelly. Whoa! And when did I even take my clothes off? Crap. You didn't set your alarm, no Gladys Knight to rescue you. You're on your own. Must. Move. Just move!**

Quinn jerked awake, heart racing, sweating. She looked down at her plaid flannel comforter. Blue and green plaid. Judas blanket! What the hell? She looked around, wondering if she had vanilla candles in here? She hopped out of bed quickly needing a shower. Then she would go for a run. And she needed to find out if there were sneaky vanilla scented candles somewhere. Because they, and her damn blanket, and apparently Natalie Fucking Portman were all conspiring to make her think she was going gay for Rachel Berry!

* * *

Rachel pulled on her jeans and a nice dark green sweater. She laced up her trail runners and pulled her hair into a loose pony-tail.

She could hear her dad calling from the stairwell. "Do you have time for your Kashi cereal, or you do want to take some fruit with you?"

She bounded down the stairs smiling. "Just the bananas dad, thanks, I'm a bit behind this morning."

Her daddy popped his head out of the kitchen. "We noticed. You should have gone to bed sooner kiddo. Your boyfriend was asleep halfway through anyway, and we have all seen V for Vendetta at least three times. We could have pretended the movie was over, woke him and sent him home.

Her dad chimed in. "True, Stretch would never have been the wiser…"

"Dad, be nice. Finn was just tired from football. "

"Uh huh. That and the two plates of spinach fettuccini and half a loaf of garlic bread probably ushered him all the more quickly to dreamland."

"If I were you sweetie, I wouldn't have given him a good night kiss. That was a lot of garlic."

"Yeah, well you guys don't want me kissing anybody, don't think I don't know that. I think that is WHY you made so much garlic bread."

"Ah, you found us out."

"Bananas, please? Peanut butter treats too?"

Jonathan Berry grinned and dropped the items into her cloth lunch bag, and handed them to her.

"Have fun, be good."

"Of course. I'll let you know if I'm coming home before studying or not." She grabbed her pea coat, a scarf, and her book bag, which had her notebooks and _Frankenstein._

"Okay sweetie. We will just be doing house stuff, maybe a movie. We'll have our phones if we leave. Say hello to Esther and Po."

"But of course. If you're nice, I bet you Po will make you a present Daddy…"

"Ha ha. You're a laugh riot. Really, tell him thank you, but really that isn't necessary."

* * *

Quinn leapt out of the shower, almost literally. She was agitated and she needed to run. She pulled on her running gear, and finished drying her hair. She was in an all out rush to be on task every second. An automaton. She was bursting out of her skin and needed to be doing something purely physical that left no room for anything but watching for traffic, stalkers and potholes.

She jammed her earbud into one ear, and tucked the other one into the neck of her Under Armor shirt she had on under her light running jacket. Last, she pulled on her beanie hat and bounded down the stairs. She looked at her watch. She had time for at least the five-mile loop.

"Mom, I'm going for a run. I have some study friends coming over sometime after eleven."

"Will you guys need lunch? "

"I don't know? One of them doesn't eat meat. Mercedes eats anything. Kurt? Hm, not sure."

"Oh. Then I'll leave some money just in case you need to order a veggie pizza or something. I have the Fall Rummage sale at the Church, so I'll be gone for the afternoon. And I'm meeting Josie and Isabelle out for dinner after. Are you going to be okay? Do you want me to order manicotti in case I'm full?"

"I'm fine mom, and thanks for the money. Maybe we won't need to use it. I know things are pretty thin around here. Oh, order what you want, and don't save it for me unless you're really full!"

She stopped as she was about to head out the door. She turned around, came back, and gave her mom a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Judy looked surprised but happy. "What was that for?"

"Just proud of you for getting out there and living your life. Screw dad. AND for getting the part time non-profit work."

"Quinnie…"

"Can't hear you mom, got my earbuds in. I have a key, bye!"

* * *

Quinn headed out the door, she could see her breath. She looked at the ipod on her arm, made sure it was on the '5 mile mix' and hit play. Villa Nah started up.

_What you running for?_  
_What you keep on hiding forever?_  
_The night goes on, we're dreaming_  
_I close my eyes and that's forever._

She glared at her ipod. She went to push to the next song. But then that would mess up her timing on her run. Damn techno and their long ass 10 minutes songs. Oh fuck it, she thought, picking up the pace, trying to tune out the words. Bring it, she thought turning it up.

She rode out the rest of Running On, which carried her down West Oaks, towards the small reservoir on the golf course to the one of the main roads that ran by a small cemetery.

Then came Galvanize, Bad Romance and Phreaks to bring her most of the way around the loop. The last part that always felt all uphill, when her lungs were starting to burn. That was when In This City and then Battleflag kicked in. Finally, the last half mile down the side street, sweating, brain blissfully blank, Ray of Light carried her almost exactly to her door. Today, she was there a good minute before the song was finished. She looked at her watch, pleased with herself. It was quarter to eleven.

* * *

Rachel had pulled into the parking lot of the Lima Horizon Center for Assisted Living just after 9:00. She hurried to the front door.

"Hi hon, how are you today?"

Rachel smiled at the middle-aged floor nurse. "I'm well today Mrs. Keller. How is Esther?"

"Oh she's fine. You go on ahead, I'll sign you in Rachel. I'm sure Napoleon is busting to see you."

Rachel grinned. "Okay, thank you. I hate to keep him waiting, thank you." She strode quickly down the hall to Esther's room. She knocked before entering.

"Come in Rachel", a soft but happy voice called to her.

She opened the door and a little squirmy short-haired dog came dancing out. He was a little brindle mixed breed thing with short hair and very expressive ears and bright eyes.

"Hi Po, you ready?" She grabbed his leash and some bags. She looked up at the elderly woman who was resting in her chair watching TV. "Are your Kent State Golden Flashes playing today Miss Esther?"

"They are indeed my dear. Taking on the Temple Owls"

"Ah. So do we have a shot?"

The older lady pursed her lips and raised one of her hands up and fluttered it. "Fifty fifty I'd say. It is a home game after all."

"Well, I think I can have Po back in time to help cheer them on."

"I'm sure you will sweetie. Have fun. Say hello to everyone."

"Of course. Let's go Po."

Since she turned thirteen, every Saturday that she could Rachel volunteered to help walk Po for exercise. When Po was all set in the exercise and elimination department, she took him around to visit with any of the residents who wanted to spend time with him.

There were a few residents who weren't interested, but it was often the most otherwise insular residents who took the most pleasure out of spending time with Po. Rachel talked endlessly while she was with them. Sometimes she could get them out of their rooms and out to the atrium. Then she could usually convince Esther to come out as well, where she could watch Po, and she would play the piano and sing for them. The residents loved old standards, and she loved to sing. She loved those days the best.

She'd been half pondering asking Kurt if he'd be interested in joining her one time for duets, but hadn't gotten around to it yet.

She looked at her watch. It was almost eleven. She looked down at Po. He was looking at her pocket. "Alright booger. Let's get you back to your room. Goodbye Mr. Mills. We should see you next week."

"Goodbye Miss Rachel. Be good for her Po."

Po wriggled his butt and turned a circle, and then followed her back to Esther's room, where she dropped him off with an extra peanut butter treat. "Goodbye Esther. Be good Po. Gooo Golden Flashes." She waved.

"Goodbye Rachel. I hope to see you next week. Maybe we'll hear some of your singing?"

"If it's a request, I'm sure you will. I should be here!" She flashed a Rachel Berry smile for her and left.

* * *

After her run, Quinn headed back for another shower, still a blur of motion. She let the scent of her herbal shampoo wash out the stress along with the sweat for now.

She pulled on comfy jeans and a comfy zip up fleece. She kept her comfy house shoes on, looking around. She was glad her mom was going to be gone. That meant they could comfortably use the living room to study. Despite having washed her hair twice(!) running five miles in a fairly successful attempt to clear her mind, she was still not eager to have Rachel Berry in her room. That seemed like it was just going to give her rat bastard subconscious more to play with. And at least Kurt and Mercedes would be along later on too.

She looked at the clock. 11:00 on the dot. She carried her books downstairs, and then headed to kitchen for some water and a snack. She settled in to watch a bit of TV and wait to hear from Berry.

Rachel slid into her car, and pulled her phone out. Half past eleven. She typed out a quick text to Quinn, hoping she wasn't too early.

**Rachel:** Hi Quinn. I'm finished with errands. Plan? I can go home if you're not ready.

**Quinn:** Come on over if you're ready

**Rachel:** I don't know where you live.

**Quinn:** Duh. Sorry. 1139 West Oaks. Off sycamore?

**Rachel:** GPS says ETA 12 minutes.

**Quinn: **See you then. Come in the back door.

Ouch. The back door? Okay, there is some clarification about where she stood with Quinn Fabray. She felt a little deflated and sighed.

**Rachel:** Sure.

**A/N: yay for reviews and thanks everyone! Really, y'all have been great! Review Monster is always hungry, and will perform wondrous circus acts for more reviews. Or well, write more. Because Review Monster is really not flexible enough for wondrous circus acts.  
**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up has already aired.  
**Rated:** R for language

**A/N: Well…still Unbeta'd. Sorry for all mistakes, feel free to point them out. Reviews would still be very much appreciated, as we all know authors live off of them, even part time authors like moi. And I still love popcorn.**

**A/N 2: **** Just getting their day started here. ****Sorry this is a little shorter, but well, my team is on and they are playing dreaded Chelsea, who are on top of the league. So far, amazingly, we are WINNING (so far...and imagine me saying that like Tom Hanks in A League of Our Own..) So Yay. I have to go drink out of my Liverpool beer mug now. If they win, perhaps I shall write more. ;) So everybody say Come on you Reds! And I hope I didn't just jinx them. Not that I'm superstitious or anything, sitting here with my Liverpool jersey and my Liverpool scarf on about to drink out of my Liverpool pint glass, after I had my coffee out of my Liverpool coffee mug or anything.**

**

* * *

**

Rachel listened to the GPS give her monotone turn by turn directions.

_Arriving at destination. On left._

She pulled up to the nice upper middle class house. The two hard wood trees still had a thin majority of their burgundy and red leaves. She pulled ample driveway that had room for three or four cars.

She pulled in behind Quinn's silver Jetta. She pulled her hair out of its loose ponytail and ran her fingers through it to smooth it out. She just liked it out of the way when she was walking Po, since that little job required her to bend over and pick up things in bags. An incident once involving a gust of wind and a simultaneous 'bagging' had required a rather curtailed visit and a second shampoo that morning.

Walking to the left side of the house, she glanced at the front door. She wondered if she was being paranoid about Quinn not wanting anyone to know she was coming over to her house. She shrugged and knocked on the small off set mudroom door.

Quinn had been watched Rachel pull up to the house, and pause, and pull in. She observed her carefully take down her GPS and stow it, and take her hair out of a ponytail. Odd. She got out of the car, and Quinn was shocked to see her not in a cutsie skirt, but in jeans and a pea coat and scarf. For once, she looked more J. Crew than OshKoshB'Gosh. Quinn nodded approvingly, and prepared to casually get up when she knocked.

Rachel knocked on the door. Through the glass on the door, she could see pegs on the side wall for coats. There was Quinn's Letterman jacket, just like Finn's. The door to the actual house opened and Quinn motioned her to open the outside door, which apparently wasn't locked.

"Hi Berry. I always come in this way when it gets cold out. You can leave your coat and your scarf out here if you want, but if you'd rather bring it in, we have a coat rack in here too."

"Here's fine." She smiled. At least the back door didn't feel like the servants' entrance anymore. "This is great. We don't have mud room. We all just trek in a mess when it snows and mop it up."

"Yeah, it's nice to have sometimes. Here, I'll take your bag in then, there's not a ton of room in there." She reached for her book bag.

"Damn Berry, what do you have in here. Frankenstein is like half an inch thick!"

"Oh, just notebooks. Ideas for songs… "she trailed off.

Quinn nodded. "Of course". She watched Rachel shimmy out of her blue coat, and then unwind the deep burgundy berry hued chenille scarf, and hang it with her coat. She followed Quinn into the kitchen.

"Cute scarf Berry."

She watched Rachel eyebrows go up in shock, and her mouth curve into a pleased but shy smile. She found herself thinking she liked the lower watt smile better than the fake ones.

"Thank you. It was a gift."

Quinn screwed up her face in puzzlement? "From Finn? Sorry, it's none of my business."

Rachel let a little barked laugh come out.

"No, no it's fine. And again, nooo, not from Finn. Please. My dads got it for me. It's uh berry colored..?"

"Ah…of course, I see that now."

"Well, you know, the thing about having two gay dads and stereotypes? My dads do, in fact, have pretty good taste."

Quinn opened her mouth. She was *this* close to making a comment about argyle. But she shut before it came out.

Rachel was not oblivious to this. She arched her eyebrow and clasped her hands in front of her. "Why the argyle you're wondering I take it?"

"I...no." Quinn pulled in her lips and held them between her teeth and shook her head slowly in a transparent attempt at denial. "I was just thinking again that that is one lovely scarf."

"Uh huh. Well thank you. I like my argyle. It's a tradition."

Quinn gave her a lopsided smile. "I know you do, Berry, I know you do. A tradition huh? I'd like to hear that sometime."

"Perhaps." The diva grinned. Quinn looked at her and shook her head. You are an odd girl Rachel Berry she thought to herself. Where was the motor mouth she had grown accustomed to?

"Well, alright, be mysterious that way. Mercedes and Kurt will be here in a little bit, about noon. My mom left me with a little money if we want to order a pizza. You're not, like, totally vegan are you?"

"Nope" she shook her head. "I am not yet so evolved. I do eat dairy if you're wondering about cheese. I'm still growing you know, and it does a body good and all that." The diva smiled and walked to the kitchen island, slowly turning around taking in her surroundings.

Quinn watched her, never having seen the other girl not dressed in something at least mildly offensive. The fifteen year old boy in Quinn, that she had been heretofore unaware of came to the surface. The jeans fit her just right, and her butt looked…yes, yes milk _does_ indeed do a body good. _Eeep!_

She was glad the other girl was facing away from her, and so didn't notice the probably obvious look of horror that came over her face as she reeled in rogue thoughts.

To cover her mental lapse and to try to pull her back into more familiar territory, she teased her a little.

"One can only hope that the miracle of dairy will add a few more inches for you 'half-pint'".

Rachel turned and cocked an eyebrow, smiling ruefully. "No amount of milk is going to make me…statuesque shall we say. Alas." She stuck out her tongue with good humor.

"Well," she the blond added lamely "Finn doesn't seem to be worried about it."

She shrugged. She used to like Finn being so large.

"He's generally a good guy Berry."

"That he is. He has him moments though. I still cannot believe he kicked you out. I'm sorry about how he treated you." She hesitated. "I think you're one of the good guys too Quinn."

Quinn chuffed. "He had his reasons."

Rachel narrowed her eyes a bit and seemed about to speak and then shut her mouth again. She finally spoke. "You're entitled to your opinion on that."

The Head Cheerio shrugged. "Water under the bridge Berry, right? I assure you it's nothing I want to sing about in front of the group. How about you?

"No, decidedly not."

"Good, then we're agreed on that."

"I was going to make some hot chocolate while we wait for Mercedes and Kurt. Or maybe tea. Nothing fancy here, Swiss Miss, or some Irish breakfast tea. Interested?"

"That sounds nice. Whichever you're having will be fine."

Quinn shrugged. "I'm just heating up some water in the kettle, it can go either way at that point I do believe."

"Well…."

She laughed, "Well what Berry?"

"Well, I have a tendency sometimes…to see what someone else is having, and then I know whether I want it or not."

Quinn finished filling the kettle, nodding with a grimace. "You know, Berry, I don't think I want to touch that statement with a ten foot pole."

"What? Oh. I meant food."

"So did I."

"No you didn't."

"You know, you are as bad as Santana for calling bullshit, aren't you? Okay, Sorry. I take it back, I really just couldn't resist…poking at you. A bad habit now I know. I'm trying to break it."

Rachel lowered herself onto a kitchen stool, quietly watching Quinn move around the kitchen for the next few moments. Quinn noticed.

"What? "

"Nothing, I just was thinking."

"About? Some of us don't have a Sixth Sense."

"Frankenstein."

"Deft change of subject."

Rachel smiled, and cupped her chin in her hand.

"Not really. I was thinking of the theme of outsiders."

"Ah. Hold that thought."

The kettle was just thinking about starting to whistle, so Quinn found a protective cozy, and pulled it off the stove. She turned to Rachel.

"I hate to be a bad host, but can you get us some mugs?"

"Don't be silly, of course." She hopped off the stool. "Hey, they're not like on the top shelf are they, because munchkin that I am, I'd need a step ladder."

"Dork. No there they are…to your right. Your other right. There you go."

Rachel reached up and grabbed two oversized mugs. One green and one blue.

"Hm. I think I'll be bold and decide now. I'll take the hot chocolate."

"Good choice. Me too. Can you get the packets and pour them in the mugs? I'll add the water."

Rachel walked over to the kitchen island again, and looked in the full box of Swiss Miss, and pulled her lips up in grin that Quinn couldn't see.

"Oh dear, there is only one packet left. That's a shame. I had my heart set on it."

"What? Mom just got that on Tuesday. There should be plenty—"

"Gotcha." The little diva grinned proudly.

Quinn looked at her completely non-plussed. Rachel's grin faltered a little. Then Quinn giggled shaking her head. "Wow. Someone is feisty today." The grin returned full force, and Quinn grinned back at her, still shaking her head.

"If you can't stand the heat get out of the kitchen?"

Quinn gave her the patented arched eyebrow and a smile over the steam from the kettle, amused.

"I'm shaking in my house shoes over here Berry. Why don't you make yourself useful and pour the mix in the mugs, and we can drink to a truce."

"That sounds prudent at this juncture." the brunette agreed with a confident smile.

* * *

Mercedes pulled into the driveway behind Rachel's car. Kurt looked at the front door.

"Impressive. If predictable."

"Yeah, it's nice inside. Quinn says it's homier now than it used to be now that her anal retentive Stepford Father is gone."

They exited the car. "Come on, we'll go through the mud room. The front is all formal and foyer and great room and shit."

She looked at Kurt, who looked disappointed. "Don't worry, I'm sure you can take a look around once you get inside."

He perked up then.

"Oh. My. God. Do you see what I see?"

"What?"

He jutted his chin towards the kitchen window. "Is it me, or do they look like some International Coffee couple 'celebrating the moments of their lives' here at Chez Fabray?"

Mercedes gaped and nodded. Through the window, she could see Quinn and Rachel sitting at the breakfast nooks, in profile. It was true. They were bent over over-sized mugs, leaning in towards each other, looking like they were old friends having a private joke.

"Wow. I don't even know what to—just wow. Well, the season of miracle IS just about on us."

Kurt wanted to make a snide comment about miracles, but he held his tongue. Mercedes, and everyone, including Rachel and Quinn, had really come through for him. They may have attributed it to their various versions of deity, and he didn't care. As far as he was concerned they, and his dad and the hospital were the miracle. And he had made a promise to himself, in this one area, that he would respect their beliefs and not tromp on them to make a pithy point. So he toned it down these days.

"Why does the End of Days feel more appropriate then? That has *got* to be as chummy as I've ever seen them." Kurt wasn't sure what to make of it, but at least it didn't look like they were in for a tense afternoon. A weird one perhaps though, he thought to himself.

"Well, well this is interesting indeed. My Spidey Senses are tingling here, Mary Jane."

"You not did not just call me Mary Jane."

"Oh go with it. Let's get inside, my ears are getting cold.

"Okay, that I can agree with."

What is going on here, they both privately wondered?

* * *

**A/N Thanks to everyone for all the wonderful reviews, thanks! Uh, does anyone think maybe I should raise the rating to M. Which is not me asking you, do you think I should write more M stuff, I'm just wondering if I should have already had an M. doh. *shrug***

**Please continue to feed the Review Monster. ; )**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up has already aired.  
**Rated:** R for language

**A/N: Well…still Unbeta'd. Sorry for all mistakes, feel free to point them out. Reviews would still be very much appreciated, as we all know authors live off of them, even part time authors like moi. And I finally had popcorn yesterday.**

**A/N 2: ****Okay, sorry shorter chapter again. I have some hours of work to accomplish today before I can get back to what is really the second part of this chapter. But I broke it up. Or, perhaps this was the second part of the last chapter. Either way. : ) And yes, my team won…yaaay! *dances***

**

* * *

**

Quinn stirred her half of the second packet of hot chocolate into her over-sized mug and then passed the packet to Rachel.

"You know, we can go crazy and each add our own second pack. It would be extra chocolaty then."

Rachel paused to consider it, and shook her head. "Nah, I think this will be enough. And we should save some in case Kurt and Mercedes would like some as well."

"That is true, how many have we got left?"

Rachel leaned over and counted the little envelopes in the back. "Let's see, there are six more packets. That should be enough, right?"

"Hope so! If we run out, I can get more I guess. "

"If I'd known you liked hot chocolate, I would have brought over some of my dad's hot cocoa mix. We all watched Tyler Florence preparing some holiday entertainment stuff a few years ago. Now we have it every year. If you happen to have real cocoa powder, powdered milk, and some bittersweet chocolate, I could probably approximate it. Oh, and sugar of course."

"Ah, so you're saying my family's Swiss Miss isn't good enough for you, eh?"

"No! I wasn't—"

"Kidding, Berry. I'll check, but, I'm not sure we have either powdered milk, and pretty sure the bittersweet chocolate would also be no."

She padded over and stepped into the pantry to have a look around. "Hm, yeah, negative on the chocolate, unless maybe Tollhouse Chocolate chips would do."

"Hm, I'm not sure about that. Maybe another time I could—well make some for you. And your mom? You were saying she took a part time job. I'm sure her life is a little bit…different than it was…you know…before."

Quinn sat down at the table again, stirring her hot chocolate, before blowing on it and having a sip. She looked out the window before speaking. "Yeah. She's been doing pretty well, I think? There was crying for awhile, but she stopped that after about a week. And she's been keeping very busy ever since."

"Speaking of sweets Berry, you know I half expected some cupcakes would show up with you here today, what's up with that?"

The brunette rolled her eyes looking guilty. "Ah, guilty as charged. Or would have been. How did you know? Am I that predictable?"

She looked to other girl, who shrugged a little apologetically.

"It is a Very Berry thing to do, I've noticed over the last year, sorry."

Rachel chuckled "Well, I'd had plans for them, it is true. Pumpkin Spice. But, Finn was a little late for dinner, and I didn't have time to get them made after the movie." She looked a little embarrassed. "I knew if I made them before, Finn would have wanted…well, probably several."

Quinn tilted her head a little and half-smiled and nodded. "Sounds about right. Not that I would know precisely, as I never baked anything for Finn. Guess he got lucky with you."

Her eyebrows drew together in thought or annoyance, Quinn couldn't tell. "I think the big dinner we had made him sleepy. He didn't even make it half way through the movie." She sighed. "I think my dads fed him a huge dinner on purpose. Full of garlic no less. They seemed to think it would keep him from kissing me. Hm, perhaps I should be thanking them for that considering certain comparative information I have recently become privy to...?"

Quinn rolled her eyes at the same time she grabbed one of the empty packets from the hot chocolate, crumpled it up and chucked it playfully at the diva's head. It bounced off her head and the diva stuck her tongue out.

The blond chuckled, pleased with herself. "Don't they like Finn?"

"Oh, I think they like him well enough. Certainly more than Jesse. More than Puck for sure. I guess—I'm still my daddies' little girl." She looked up to the left a puzzled look on her face. "Daddies'? Daddys'? Both of them. Anyway—"

She stopped when she noticed Quinn's mouth pinch in a little as she winced a little. The blond nodded looking down into her cup again, stirring it. Rachel's brows knitted. She watched Quinn take a deep breath and then look up, and around the room, anywhere but at Rachel, her eyes a little bright.

"Oh, Quinn. I—I'm an idiot. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up—anything to upset you."

Quinn smiled a little. "S'okay. It's better this way." She looked at Rachel who looked stricken. "Really. Sure, it's a little painful, but I really do think its better this way." That statement applied to more than one thing in her life.

Rachel was still observing her, empathy in her eyes. Quinn started to get a little antsy under the intent and thoughtful look.

Quinn tried to break what she felt was an odd tension. "Hey so now do I qualify for any famous Rachel Berry I'm Sorry Cupcakes?"

It worked, and Rachel laughed. "Was this a ploy? All you had to do was ask you know. I'm easy."

Quinn snickered cheekily, "not as easy as me, in case you haven't heard the rumors?"

Laughing still, Rachel crumpled up her own empty packet of Swiss Miss and through it at her.

"Oh please. Nobody with any sense thinks that about you."

Quinn caught it easily and pretended like she was going to through it back, Rachel through her hands up to protect herself, giggling. Quinn tossed the crumpled packet it on the table instead. Her mouth curved into a smile, as she raised her hands to show she held nothing in them.

"How about we drink to that truce right now Berry?"

"On one condition?"

"Conditions? I throw down my arms in a peaceful gesture and you give me conditions? Fine, Berry. Speak to me of conditions, and I shall ponder them."

Rachel beamed. "'I can assure you I mean you no harm.'"

"V for Vendetta?"

"Yep."

She smiled and was just about to relate of the events the night before involving Sam, and the debate over whether Zach Braff was hot enough for Natalie Portman. She shook her head, and pulled herself up short before she said anything. That way lies madness. Or was it dragons? Here be dragons? She shook her head to clear it, trying to focus on the girl in front of her. She was kind of delicate looking, waiting there expectantly for her to say something. She smiled a little uneasily and motioned for her to continue.

"Okay, let's hear it."

"My conditions are two-fold."

"Of course they are, Berry."

"Make that three-fold."

Quinn crossed her arms and leaned back, her eyebrow arched sardonically. "You're pushing it…"

"I don't think I am." Rachel crossed her arms smiling in triumph. "One. Let me make you hot chocolate sometime? I'll show you how."

Quinn's eyes widened with confusion. "Hm. Well, I think I can say yes—

The diva held up her hand imperiously, which made Quinn giggle. "Wait, you have to hear them all and agree to them all."

"Dang Berry!" She waved her hand, and rolled her eyes smiling. "What else?"

Grinning she continued. "Two. You let me make you the Pumpkin Spice Cupcakes."

Quinn was about to open her mouth, but saw Rachel tilt her head and give her a warning look. Her sitting version of putting her hands on her hips, Quinn thought with amusement. She put her hand to her lips and 'zipped' them.

"Third, and lastly," her smile became smaller and less self-assured, "call me—by my name? My first name?"

That caught the Head Cheerio by surprise. She inhaled quickly, nodding slowly. "That sounds reasonable. You're good, Ber—Rachel. Rach?" She cocked her head in and smiled. Watching the Rachel's shy smile turn into a huge grin, made her chest tighten a little and feel warm. She leaned forward smiling at the petite girl across the table. She reached across the table halfway and held her fist out for Rachel to bump.

"Raise your fist Rachel, like mine. Watch me."

Rachel arched her eyebrows up looking a little trepidation as she mirrored the pose. She'd seen particular ritual of course, but never actually participated. Quinn bumped their fists together lightly, then pulled her hand away slightly, spread her fingers and lifted them slightly. Quinn was felt a little flushed with delight watching as Rachel copied her actions. She thought Rachel looked like she was a six year old on Christmas morning. Or Hanukah she corrected herself mentally.

"Nice," Quinn nodded approving. "Yeah, thank Mercedes for teaching me that."

"Hang on, can we do that again, I don't think I did it right."

Quinn laughed, and Rachel laughed with her. "You really ARE a perfectionist aren't you? Okay, one, two, three, bump." Quinn couldn't help but grin and laugh at how happy and cute Rachel looked sitting there, so pleased with herself. She shook her head smiling.

Rachel smiled and leaned in, raising her eyebrow.

"_The best victory is when the opponent surrenders of its own accord before there are any actual hostilities... It is best to win without fighting__."_

Quinn leaned in and raised an opposing eyebrow. "I get hot chocolate, cupcakes. I think you're mistaken about who won this exchange.

"I get to be called some by name occasionally. How about we call it even?"

Quinn shrugged and nodded agreeably, and the brunette smiled goofily.

"Can we fist bump on it? "

"Again?" Quinn looked incredulous, and shook her head with mirth.

"Please?"

"Okay, bring it in." They both smiled and repeated the fist bump and fade. Quinn thought Rachel looked like a complete dork doing it, but an adorable dork, she admitted. An inkling in the back of her mind twitched at that thought.

* * *

Mercedes and Kurt both witnessed the giggling and fist bumping. Mercedes turned to Kurt. "I'm starting to lean towards your End of Days theory. THAT is just weird."

"Let's get in there and suss this out then shall we? Maybe they were just hatching a plan to take down Vocal Adrenaline? Don't we usually know things before everyone else? How did we miss something?"

Mercedes nodded. "Well, Rachel has every reason to want to get back at Jesse. Perhaps she's just tapping into our resident HBIC's talent for revenge and destruction? It may have gone dormant, but it's still there. I just can't think of any reason those two would be so—so—"

"Friendly?" Kurt supplied. "Bosom buddies? Sisters in arms?"

Mercedes just shook her head slowly watching them. "I taught her that fist bump."

"Like I said, something is afoot here." He offered his elbow to Mercedes. "Shall we? "

"We shall."

Mercedes was still shaking her head as they stepped to the door and knocked. Kurt had an unreadable look on his face.

Quinn jumped at the knock, startled. She'd forgotten anyone else was coming, and had been mid-sip and spilled some on her fleece. "Shit!"

Rachel looked over concerned, "you didn't burn yourself did you?"

"No, no. I'm just a dumb ass and got it on my clothes. I'm going to change, can you let them in?"

"Sure, sure, go! Go treat it before it stains."

Quinn waved at the two visitors apologetically, holding up a finger to hold on a minute.

Kurt and Mercedes looked at each other and shrugged as they watched Rachel wave them into mud room as she unlocked the door to the inside.

They stepped inside, both curious. And a little wary.

**A/N Thank you all so much for reviews, alerts add/etc. You all rock. Sorry this had to wait a bit and is a bit short. More later. After more work gets done. Grr. And thanks to you anonymous reviewers I can't thank personally.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up has already aired.  
**Rated:** R for language

**A/N: Well…still Unbeta'd. Sorry for all mistakes, feel free to point them out. Reviews would still be very much appreciated, as we all know authors live off of them, even part time authors like moi. And I still love popcorn.**

**A/N 2: Sorry, this may feel like more filler, but I'm moving along I promise. Plus, I'm working on the next chapter already. There's a lot dialogue and I did have to leave and come back to it a lot since yesterday, so hope it's still understandable. sorry for obvious mistakes that I shall probably fix in the next hour... :/  
**

**

* * *

**

Rachel opened the door to the kitchen, smiling and a little flushed from laughing.

"Hello! Quinn spilled some hot chocolate on herself, she went to go change. You can hang your coats up there, or I think she said there was another coat rack in here if you'd rather use it. Granted, I have no idea where it is.

Kurt slipped out of his stylish black coat and hung it up, along with his grey scarf. She helped Mercedes out of her coat and hung it up.

"This is fine Rachel. But I would love to see where this coat rack is."

Mercedes sighed.

"Kurt, just ask Quinn for the tour when she gets downstairs."

Quinn hurried up the stairs to her room, stripping on the fleece she had on, grumbling all the way to the laundry nook. She grabbed the spot treatment and dabbed in the stain. She trotted back to her room, looking for something to put on.

Trawling through her drawers, she pulled out a comfortable grey McKinley sweatshirt. Standing in front of the cheval mirror, she looked at herself critically.

Well I look like hell in this color she thought. She tossed her first choice on her bed and went to her closet running her hands over some of her nicer shirts. She was ignoring little voice in her. It was wondering why she felt the need to look nice for anyway.

She settled on a long sleeved earthy green knit scoop neck she hadn't been able to wear at this time last year. It would have made her tiny baby bump from last year more visible, so she'd never really gotten a chance to wear it. Her mom had had been with her when she picked out at the store. She'd told her it brought out the green in her hazel eyes. She turned in the mirror. She was definitely back in shape now. She fixed hair into a loose pony tail before she padded away to the landing on the stairs.

They were talking below. She paused for a moment at the top of the stairs.

* * *

After Rachel held the door for them, she ushered them into the breakfast nook area they'd been sitting at.

"Come on in guys. It's pretty chilly out there. You all look freezing."

"That's because we were standing in the driveway mesmerized by the signs of the Apocalypse."

"You what?"

"You know, the End of Days. Plowshares into swords. Lions lying down with Lambs. Quinn Fabray and Rachel Berry having tea and cookies. You know. The Apocalypse?"

Rachel smiled at the obvious joke. "It's not like its Treaty of Versailles in here. It's just hot chocolate, and we saved you guys some."

"Uh huh. Sooo it's in the hot chocolate? I don't know Kurt, I'm not sure I trust the hot chocolate now."

"Come on guys, sit down. We've both grown a lot in the last year. The last month even."

"Uh huh."

"Really! I mean come on, WE three get along better now don't we? I mean, I tolerate you guys. And…and I mean you tolerate my…er…tendency to strive for perfection and my…lack of filtering process sometimes." She looked at them, unsure. "Right?"

"Well, I suppose of all of Glee we three DO have the highest tendency towards our 'diva-esque' moments, shall we say. Oh honey, you are still the Queen of the Storm Off rest assured. We were just unaware your little kumbaya circle had spread."

The little diva crossed her arms and cocked her head. "I am capable of curbing some of my more irritating habits you know. Ask Finn…"

* * *

"Ask Finn what?" Quinn padded down the stairs still in jeans, but now in a different shirt.

The new arrivals looked up and smiled.

"Hey hey girl. Come on down."

"Hey guys, sorry, I spilled some hot chocolate and had to change.'

"We heard. Say, now that is a great color for you Quinn. It really makes your eyes pop."

Quinn rolled her eyes, but fluttered her eye-lashes at him. "What? This old thing?"  
She struck a dramatic pose on the stair case. "Eh, it's just been in my closet." She lumbered the rest of the way down.

"Way to ruin your entire entrance there, Miss Fabray."

"Oh please."

"Rachel made me save you some hot chocolate if you want some. We also have Irish Breakfast tea" She bounced on in to the kitchen and opened the fridge. "We also have a few diet drinks. I just figured with the weather out, something warm might be nice."

"Good point. Hot chocolate sounds good."

Mercedes nodded. "Me too please?"

Mercedes and Kurt sat in the corner, watching the two work in tandem in the kitchen. Kurt tilted his head observing. "Curiouser and curiouser." Mercedes turned to him and shrugged. "Why question a good thing" she whispered.

"I suppose you're right, but I'm keeping an eye on them" he murmured back with an elegant arch of his brow. "This is just too weird." Kurt wasn't one of the most well-informed students at McKinley for nothing. Well, there was Jacob Ben-Israel. But he stooped to levels of creepitude that were probably criminal. Kurt simply thought of himself as preternaturally observant.

He just didn't know what phenomenon he was observing yet.

Quinn filled the kettle again, while Rachel cleaned the table, and the discarded empty packets, and grabbed two more mugs for Mercedes and Kurt. "Quinn, I think I'd like to try that tea this time."

"You know, me too. Hand me your mug, and I'll wash it out for you?"

"Absolutely, thank you. Sugar?"

Quinn nodded and pointed vaguely behind her, watching as Rachel pointed to one cabinet, and then the next as she listened for instructions.

"Yep, you're getting warmer. Warmer. Hot. There you go, corner cabinet. Yep. I'll get the cream when it's through."

"We just have the one tea ball, so I'll make a pot we can share if that's okay? "

"Certainly!"

Rachel reached for the delicate sugar holder with the matching tiny spoon.

Quinn lifted her head and glanced over as the petite girl stretched to her tip toes and took down the pewter sugar holder. She turned quickly back to the sink when the other girl turned.

Kurt, who had crossed his legs, picked up on the glance. He narrowed his eyes.

Mercedes noticed Kurt, and poked him. "What," she asked quietly, "I know you saw something, what?"

"I don't know yet." He tapped his chin. Mercedes shook her head. "Well, let me in on it when you figure it out."

Rachel set the sugar down, and then leaned back against the counter out of the way, a thoughtful look on her face. She watched Quinn move around the kitchen, as she found the tea ball and the loose leaf tea.

Rachel thought she looked more vibrant than she'd seen her in a long time. Sam had been good for her. She was a bit jealous she had to admit. She felt like she was in a rut with Finn. She felt, well, let down. Like now that she had everything she was supposed to want that it should all be perfect. Things were okay, but they certainly weren't perfect.

"Hey, do guys want to mix your own hot chocolate, or do I need to do everything around here?"

"Oh, my bad Quinn. We thought you two were playing hostess so well. What can we do?"

She looked over as she poured now boiling water into a small porcelain teapot. "Grab your mugs and come mix your hot chocolate, you lazy sorry sacks of poo. Oh, we discovered that if you fill the mug all the way, one packet will be a little watery. Unless you like it that way? We just split another packet between us earlier, and it was fine. Anyway, come and get it."

The vegetarian pizza had arrived and it had been divided and conquered with gusto. They were still discussing the novel and possible angles for a quiz or test.

"I want to discuss why a female writer would just completely leave out any female characters of consequence."

"That isn't one of the questions Quinn."

"Well, it should be."

Rachel looked over. "Well, maybe it was meant as an irony. Maybe the reader is supposed to notice the dearth of female characters and societies sexist attitudes."

"So…Mary Shelley was a feminist."

"Well her mother was, so she probably was too."

"Well, are we all like our parents?"

Both Quinn and Rachel looked a little uneasy at that thought.

"Of course not," they said in unison.

"Well, there you go then."

Kurt groaned. "So, can please we get back to the whole Man versus Man, Man versus Himself shinola here?"

"Yeah, that would sound great in an essay."

Rachel looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Well as far as a modern novel or movie, how is this story any different than Rocky in Rocky Horror Picture Show? Rocky was a creation."

Mercedes shot that idea down quickly.

"Really Rachel? Okay, No. Just no. Not everything in musical theater is a classic."

"Are you saying Rocky Horror *isn't* now a 'classic'? "

"Noo…well, not in the same way that this is" she held up the copy of Frankenstein. "It's just not. Rocky Horror borrowed some elements, but that is all I can see. I mean, other than the fact that yes…. Dr. Frank-N-Furter creates and destroys his own creation; science can lead to rampant evil or whatever, blah blah. There is really nothing else related to it.

Quinn argued. "Well, Rocky wasn't exactly tortured and harangued and hated."

"Well, he _did_ have to run around gold lame under wear, doesn't that count?"

"True dat." Mercedes laughed when Quinn said it.

Then laughter erupted from all of them.

Kurt arched his brows. "Not that Sam didn't look fetching in his little number."

"Oh come on, we all looked pretty hot don't you think?" Quinn giggled.

"Oh yes…I'm sure I looked quite the catch as Riff Raff" Kurt added drolly.

Rachel, Quinn and Mercedes made non-committal noises. "Fair enough."

"But we all knew how adorable you are under there."

Kurt sighed. Quinn pointed to her friend. "Well, YOU were rocking the S & M chic, my dear."

Quinn and Mercedes fist bumped over the table.

"I was, wasn't I? It was fun. Though I'm sure you or Santana would have made quite the Dr. Frank-N-Furter."

"Hey, what about me? Rachel asked somewhat plaintively." Or are you saying that bland Janet is more my style."

"Sweetie if the smock frock fits…?"

* * *

They carried on covering all the questions from their checklist. Quinn knew she was a bit tired, and she was having trouble keeping her mind from wandering. She occasionally found herself gazing at Rachel with unfocused eyes.

When Rachel looked over at her and shook her head and gently, the back of her neck prickled, and her mind flashed on the Rachel in her dream. She shook her head again more forcefully to clear the image of Rachel in nothing but a bra and panties.

"Are you all right?" Mercedes asked.

"Yeah, sure, just a bit of a headache. I—haven't slept that great the past few nights for some reason."

Rachel looked concerned. "Really? Well, I have to say that perhaps Irish Breakfast tea wasn't the thing to have. The caffeine might contribute to keeping you up you know."

Mercedes agreed. "Yeah, do you need that bean bag again? I have it my house."

Quinn smiled, "Thanks Mercedes. If it I don't sort it out this weekend, maybe I'll need it. I'll let you know

Kurt and Rachel looked at them. "It's one of those rice beanbag type things, only this one has herbs and whatnot in it to help with sleep. Plus it's warm and toasty."

"Oh that does sound nice."

"Well for the moment, don't mind me. Have we covered everything, guys?"

"I think so…?"

"Well, do you guys want to watch some TV or a movie? Just wind down?"

Mercedes looked at Kurt. "Well, I have to get home by 3:30, so I can whip up some grub for the hoi polloi to snack on whilst they play mindless violent video games. But…I wouldn't mind decompressing for a bit after all this mental stimulation. Shall we repair to the den?"

"Lets." They all answered.

But as Rachel got up she automatically started clearing the table and collecting things.

Quinn turned around when she noticed what Rachel was doing. "Ber—Rachel," she started and caught herself, pulling her face into a grimace. "Sorry. Rachel, thanks for the help, but let's go relax before they have to go. If you want to still help me after that, I won't say no. Deal?"

"Well if you put it that way, I could certainly use some time vegging out and letting my brain come back to life."

Forty five minutes, after a Kathy Griffin special, Kurt stood up. "Ladies, I have to get going. My public await me. Mercedes?"

"Yeah, yeah, you're chariot awaits."

They all stood up and headed back to the kitchen. Rachel placed her hand on Quinn's shoulder to get her attention. Quinn jumped at the contact. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." She dipped her head a little in apology. "I can get going too Quinn if you want to get some rest, since you said you weren't sleeping well."

"No, I'm sorry, you just startled me a bit. And, No, I mean, that's okay. You're welcome to stay. I mean. Whatever."

Rachel looked over to wear Kurt and Mercedes were donning their coats and scarves. She caught Kurt looking at her; he ducked his head and went back to adjusting his scarf. "Quinn, I must confess. I am completely unclear what your preference is at this point."

Quinn looked up at the ceiling. "It would be lovely if you stayed awhile longer. I'm not really doing anything else anyway."

"Damning with faint praise I see."

"Well, it could have been worse. I could have said asked you to stay for just the cleanup, right?" Quinn winked at her.

That earned a smile. Rachel ventured a response. "True dat?"

Quinn shook her head. "Yeah…I'm not so sure that phrase works for you. I'm not even sure it works for me."

"Yeah, I think you're right. It didn't exactly trip off my tongue, did it?"

Quinn chuffed and shrugged. "Not so much."

* * *

Kurt called from the mud room.

"Ladies? Hello? Hungry teenage boys to feed?"

Kurt had been watching them chat some more. What the hell was going on? Because Quinn was acting awfully odd. Besides the obvious non-combative attitude with the diva, she was also for some reason being awfully…attentive? He couldn't put his finger on it. He leaned over to close to Mercedes as he put the scarf around his neck.

"Is it me, or are you beginning to feel superfluous?"

"Umhmmm."

"I feel like I was just hosted by a couple or something. Weird. This is our new project, isn't it?"

Mercedes nodded, agreeing.

"Umhmmm. Something is different here. Here they come."

Rachel and Quinn joined them.

"Well, I think we should be ready for anything we face on Monday. Good job guys!"

"Yeah, I think we're good. See you guys later? Quinn, call me if you want to use that bean bag. Or…well, just call me?"

"Will do Mercedes. Later Kurt. I hope they don't eat you out of house and home over there. You should at least make them eat at the table."

"Please. I'll try." Kurt rolled his eyes.

Quinn shut the kitchen door and turned to find Rachel already cleaning up.

"Rachel. I was kidding. About the cleaning? Give it a rest. I'll get it later. Come on in the living room."

Rachel put everything in the sink before she acceded to the request.

Quinn stretched out on one end of the couch facing the TV. She stretched.

Rachel looked on, a little envious of her long limbs. Sure she kept in shape too, but she would always be short. She wouldn't have the long lithe body that Quinn had. She was a runt. Petite if someone was feeling kind.

Quinn opened her eyes after the stretch. Rachel looked at her and cocked her head. The later afternoon sun was catching the blond in the face. She scrunched up her eyes at the bright light.

"Wow. Kurt was right. That color really looks lovely on you."

Quinn sat up to avoid the light.

"Thanks Rachel. The green you're wearing really suits you, and your complexion."

Quinn moved her legs to make room for her guest.

"So what do you want to watch?"

"Is there anything good on? Any marathons?"

"Hm, let's see. Why is it that there is *always* some sort of Law and Order marathon going on somewhere. It never fails."

"Oh please no. I was subjected to way too many while I had laryngitis!" She looked horrified.

"I concur. But, well, give me some guidance here…you strike me as the HGTV or Bravo kind."

Rachel looked slightly offended, and then embarrassed. "Okay, so I don't mind those, but… I actually like the SciFi channel…?" she let her voice trail off, trying to keep the hope out of her voice.

"What? Me too" the blond grinned hugely, and flipped to the channel immediately. "Hm, it's a Caprica marathon."

"Ooh, I love Caprica, the 1950s flavor juxtaposed with the future tech."

Half an hour later they were happily ensconced on the couch. Quinn had pulled the fleece blanket that draped the back of the couch and spread it on her knees, and was lying down with her head on a pillow. Rachel sat cross-legged and rapt.

Just after 4:00 Quinn's phone buzzed and dinged with a text. Jerked out of the plot, Quinn looked around.

"I can grab that for you, it sounds like it's in the kitchen."

"Oh, thanks. It IS rather comfy under here" she admitted.

The smaller girl hopped up and retrieved her phone and made to sit down. "Here" said Quinn as she sat. She shook out some more of the blanket. "You're welcome to some too, sorry I didn't think earlier."

"Oh, thanks, I admit that does look pretty cozy." She took the proffered end of the blanket and re-crossed her legs indian style.

Quinn looked at her phone message and snickered quietly. Rachel looked over and then back at the TV, not wanting to intrude. She assumed it was Mercedes, or Santana or Sam, or any one of her other friends. She sighed and turned back to the TV, and hit the pause button on the DVR so Quinn wouldn't miss anything.

She jumped when her own phone vibrated. Quinn laughed. "I bet you its Finn. I was just about to show you the photo Sam sent me."

Rachel looked surprised. Quinn was typing away on her phone, so she got up to retrieve her own phone. Sure enough there was a text from Finn with a picture.

**Finn:** _is this orderv or an appetizer? Should I eat?_

Attached was a photo of what looked like lettuce leaves with various meat and vegetables.

"What did he send you?"

Rachel studied the picture. "Well, it appears to be a picture of some kind of lettuce type wrap."

"Yeah, that's what Sam sent. He was impressed with what Kurt made." He also said Finn was baffled but she didn't mention that part. It wasn't her place to point out Finn's shortcomings as she perceived them.

Both of their phones buzzed again with a messages from Kurt.

**Kurt:** _It's a Vietnamese lettuce wrap for crying out loud. Peasants!"_

"I think they're giving Kurt a hard time over there."

"I'd say so. I don't think Finn means to, he just—"

"Yeah, I know. He— yeah. I know." Quinn shook her head. She didn't want to insult her ex and Rachel's current to her face.

"Yeah. I know. I know." Her lips pulled into a half smile. "I just told him to try the damn thing."

"Really?" Quinn was surprised Rachel would be so gruff with Finn.

The brunette shrugged "Okay, well told him I thought he should try it."

Quinn nodded. That sounded more like Rachel. She put her phone on the armrest and jerked her chin at the TV. "Back to Caprica?"

"Back to Caprica." Rachel agreed and re-crossed her legs and hit the 'play' button.

Quinn got comfortable, pulling the blanket around her. She watched the show with interest, but she also took the opportunity to study the girl at the end of the couch. She noticed she kept looking to her left where her phone was, and then a slightly sad look would come over her face. She turned back to the TV. Finn could be such a tool. She rubbed her eyes, which were starting to droop.

**A/N Yes, that's right kids. I do believe Quinn is about to fall asleep. Perchance to dream? Review Monster will take suggestions…**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up has already aired.  
**Rated:** R for language

**A/N: 1/7/11 Hi, I was a dork and deleted a chapter, so had to reupload. This may be a bit different than what it was. I shall be going through to fix them as I can. I post and make lots of edits so I apologize if the quality sucks at the moment. I have 5 chapters to go through. Sorry!Well…still Unbeta'd. Sorry for all mistakes, feel free to point them out. Reviews would still be very much appreciated, as we all know authors live off of them, even part time authors like moi. And I still love popcorn.**

**A/N 2: Thanks everyone for review, comments suggestions. SOO much appreciated. This is a bit short. It's not quite like the other 'dreams' well, it is. But… let's just say Quinn might be transitioning from 'nightmare' to 'dream'. Personlly, the difference as I see it is… I don't' try to wake up from dreams… and my subconscious is much, much quieter. More plot next chapter folks.**

When the Caprica episode started rolling its credits, Rachel took a look at the fading light outside. She glanced over at the sleeping form stretched out next to her. She'd noticed about twenty prior that there was some heavy even breathing coming from Quinn. She'd looked over and smiled, covering up the girl's legs where the cover had fallen away.

**######**

"_Do you want some vanilla or nutmeg grated on top? "_

_Quinn smiled, waiting on her stool. "Maybe both?"_

_The vanilla cocoa and cinnamon smelled wonderful. She smiled at the girl across the breakfast bar from her. She looked stunning in the forest green v-neck sweater, with a necklace and pendant she couldn't make out. She watched her brush her long black hair over one shoulder as she ground up the nutmeg. She stopped and looked up._

"_You're watching me", she smiled, looking self-conscious, and shy but pleased._

"_I am." Quinn answered._

"_Why is that?"_

"_I don't know? Because you are beautiful."_

_A flash of white showed her smile in the dusky fire lit kitchen. She turned and noticed the fire for the first time._

"_Oh do tell? And how long have you felt this way?" She said it in a voice meant to tease._

_Quinn smiled a secret smile. But the question jarred her._

_She didn't know how to answer it. Why didn't she know how to answer that?_

***twitch***

She'd noticed Quinn had become a little twitchy after a few minutes as well. She found herself wondering if she was always a restless sleeper.

Checking the light outside again and her watch, she hit pause on the remote, and ever so slowly extricated herself from the couch, managing not to wake Quinn. She tiptoed off to the kitchen in stealth mode. She looked around and found some cleaning supplies. She wiped down the counter surfaces and brushed off the table. She peeked over at the still slumbering host and smiled, pleased with herself.

Pulling out her phone, she first turned it to silent. Then she composed a quick message to her daddy, who was much more tech savvy than her dad.

**Rachel:** Hi. I'm still studying. Not sure what time I'll be home. Po says hi.:)

Then she sent a quick one to Finn too.

**Finn:** Have fun. I'll text you before bed.

Not very informative she realized, but Finn was fine. He was having interesting food, and playing video games, and presumably trying to get figure out what the boys were going to sing for the Girls versus Boys competition. He was more than sure of her affections these days and he didn't check in as often. They'd fallen into leading man and leading lady rolls quickly.

**Dad:** Sure thing sweetie. Brunch and Iron Chef here tonight.

She smiled. Breakfast food for dinner was one of their favorites. They would no doubt go crazy with Eggs Florentine or some egg dish since she wasn't there.

**Rachel:** Enjoy. Save me a bagel.

She slid her phone shut and tip toed back over to the couch, pausing as she noted Quinn was still restless.

_In front of the fire now, on a large blue plaid flannel blanket, the game Taboo laid out in front of them. She had a general sense of contentment. She knew for some reason that Rachel loved playing games, so she'd brought this one out._

_The box of cards was in Rachel's hands now, and she was looking at the cards and smiling._

_Quinn turned the timer._

"_Okay. Here we go. What the blank? Where your father thinks you're going. What Catholics believe in. Why you're afraid to want to kiss me."_

"_Hell." She cringed._

"_Okay, one. Next one."_

_Quinn nodded._

"_Okay. Soft. Smell nice. Venus, not Mars"_

"_Girls?"_

"_Nice Quinn." Rachel glance over at her over at her smiling hugely._

_Quinn grinned. "And people think blonds are thick."_

_The brunette rolled her dark eyes. "Well I know better. Okay, next. Hm. Smooth. Crave. One of the five senses…?"_

"_I thought you had six?" Quinn risked teasing her._

"_Smartass! You might have to make that up to me."_

"_Anytime."_

"_Good to know. Answer?"_

"_Hm… touch?"_

"_Very good again, sweetie" she winked and smiled her approval. The smile made Quinn's stomach flutter._

_Rachel continued the game._

"_Next one." She looked at again, smiled mischievously and tapped her finger to her chin, "Hm. Maybe I should just show you?"_

_Quinn raised her eyebrows. "Maybe a hint first?"_

"_Okay, you deserve a hint"_

"_Hey, I deserve lots of things, don't I?" It was a sincere question._

_Rachel reassured her. "Yes you do sweetie. Now do you want your hint or not?_

"_I do."_

"_Okay. Try..lips. Warm. Moist." _

"_Okay now, that could be a lot of…"_

"_Again with the smartass comments? Well what do you want it to be? Hm?" _

_Suddenly the diva was on her hands and knees slowly crawling sinuously towards her like a cat closing the distance. She'd dropped the game cards and the buzzer. Quinn sat waiting, smiling with her eye brow arched, her heart rate rising and her stomach tightening._

"_Cat? Stalker? Cat Woman? Stalking Cat Woman? Cat Stalker?" She teased._

_Now Rachel was almost in her lap. She raised herself up on her knees and put her hands to Quinn's shoulders and gently started pushing her backwards to the floor. Quinn felt her mouth curve in a smile, as she allowed herself to be guided backwards to the floor. She brought her hands to Rachel's hips as she settled in almost touching her, but still hovering. The black hair curtained around her, smelling like the vanilla hot cocoa. She felt the warm tickle of breath near her left ear. Warm and wet, a delicate tongue traced the shell of her ear, and she felt a nip on her earlobe. _

_The hairs on the back of her neck, indeed the entire left side of her body all responded, standing up and prickling. She knew what that would do to her all over. Evidently Rachel did too, as she raised her hands to the front of her chest now, feeling through her shirt for the raised and hardened flesh and began gently teasing and kneading._

_The lips closed in on her ear, not quite touching. "Here is your hint. What you want me to be doing right now."_

_Quinn whispered her answer. "Kissing me."_

_There was a throaty chuckle in her ear. "Form of the word, I'll accept that." The lips touched her ear again and then appeared in front of her. She had her eyes closed but she could sense them there, just above her own lips. She reached her hands up to pull her the last millimeters to her lips to kiss. But the hand at her chest appeared between them, pushing her back. The lips found their way to her other ear, where they brushed against her there. "Say my name Quinn. My first name."_

_Something tickled the back of her mind. But she was too distracted by the hands, and the lips to care. She heard her own voice strain, and she groaned a little in frustration. The lips next to her ear brushed them again, setting all her nerve endings on fire even more._

"_Rachel," she whispered._

"_Rachel what?"_

"_Rachel, kiss me" she pleaded. A throaty moan from somewhere reached her ears and then the lips descended finally. She moaned quietly and rolled herself on top and got lost in the softness of the full lips._

**#####**

Rachel came back into the living room and attempted to settle in on the couch lowering the volume but pushing play to continue watching _Caprica_.

She wanted to let Quinn sleep, as clearly she needed it. She was rather endearing curled up on the couch with the blanket. Well she had been curled up. But when Rachel had stepped into the kitchen to clean up and to text her dad and Finn, apparently the leggy blond had sensed there was more room on the couch and availed herself of it. So, Rachel perched on the very end of the couch, squeezed in. The blanket was too tangled up with Quinn's feet and legs now to extract any to use.

Rachel looked over at the sleeping girl and rolled her eyes and smiled fondly. She was certainly active I her sleep. She was all twisted up, her shirt caught up, exposing part of her back and hip. She looked around for another blanket to add, but didn't see any. An idea occurred to her.

She quickly padded out to the mud room and pulled her chenille scarf of the hook and headed back inside. She put it on for a bit, because it was a little chilly to the touch from hanging in the non-insulated room. She ran it back and forth over her neck to create friction to warm it up better. Satisfied, she gently laid it so it covered the gap in the blanket coverage.

She was about to sit down when Quinn whimpered, making her jump slightly. The tall girl's foot moved. Well, Rachel thought wryly, there goes any room on the couch whatsoever.

She had enjoyed sharing the couch and the companionship (even if Quinn was technically asleep). She sighed and looked at the couch again, wondering if perhaps she could ease back into her spot. Quinn could put her feet on her, she didn't mind.

She moved to the end of the couch. Quinn was moving again, now was a good time to move in. She looked at her. Yes, still sleeping. She must be dreaming about slaying dragons, or Cylons, Rachel laughed to herself.

"Rachel, Kiss me…"

***twitch***

Whiplash was a possible diagnosis.

Rachel stared at a still sleeping Quinn, whose mouth had just uttered something that made her think she was hallucinating. That mouth then curved into a sensuous smile, while the body turned over and curled towards the back of the couch, content.

Rachel stared at her still, glad no one was around. She was completely nonplussed. She wasn't mad, or worried or scared. Okay, she was a little scared. It was a little odd, so she was a little worried. She found herself thinking uncharitable things. Maybe that was why Quinn never put out? Did Santana know? Does Rachel sound like any other boy name? Like maybe some…Gaelic name. Brachel, Machel, or…no that's stupid. She definitely said Rachel. Wait, maybe she was just saying "Rachel, kiss my ass," and she didn't get it all out?

Surely, surely…Quinn Fabray couldn't have just been dreaming that she wanted Rachel, lately known as 'Manhands' Berry to kiss her.

Could she?

**#####**

**A/N. Hope this all makes sense, lol. I don't always know what is going to come out. I spent 10 minutes looking up the name of damn game Taboo because I was blanking on it. I knew what I wanted. But..it was gone. Anyway, for future reference, I would NOT recommend 'adult, party games' as a search option. D'oh. Unless you're throwing a bachelorette party or something…. I'm just sayin' **

**Sorry a bit of an awkward leave off, I know. Crunched for time today, and probably hiatus for a few days probably. Unless I can be persuaded… It might get me back sooner! ; )**

**Cheers, let me know what you think. **


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up has already aired.  
**Rated:** R for language

**A/N: Well…still Unbeta'd. Sorry for all mistakes, feel free to point them out. Reviews would still be very much appreciated, as we all know authors live off of them, even part time authors like moi. And I finally had popcorn yesterday.**

**A/N 2: ****Okay, sorry shorter chapter again. Sorry guys, bear with me. Having taken a forced break and all makes it a bit jarring to jump back in to, ya know? And it has taken me a bit to get back on track. So, this feels to me a bit of a clusterf***. Sorry! But I have to cut it off and send it out into the wild so I can move on to what's next. Which I hope will flow a bit better. Don't worry. Everyone is still processing. Or will be processing. I'll try to clean up any errors shortly. I'm sure they are there... :)  
**

**

* * *

**

Rachel shook her head slightly. She wanted to stick her finger in her ear like some old Three Stooges movie. But she was certain there was nothing impeding her hearing.

No, apparently the still restlessly sleeping form had, despite all precedent or common sense, had uttered "Kiss me, Rachel".

Maybe she has a niece, aunty, or a MiMaw named Rachel?

Quinn stirred on the couch, murmuring quietly.

Like a deer caught in headlights, Rachel froze. The murmuring subsided and Quinn appeared restful again.

Her mind reeling, the brunette carefully backed away from the couch until she had backed herself into the rocking chair across the den, where she almost fell into it. Catching herself she sat down slowly. She pulled her legs up and crossed them, resting her chin in her hands.

She sat. For a good while she sat. And she thought, her brow furrowed, almost painfully. Flashes of slushies and insults and arched eye-browed excoriating glares. Put downs. Puck. Pregnancy! No. She shook her head. This just didn't make sense. It was just a dream, and she really wasn't even entirely sure what she heard. Breathing a forced sigh of relief at having found a place to file this weird occurrence, she resolved to…ignore it. Mystery and possible problematic awkwardness solved.

Satisfied with her resolution, she cheerfully rose from the rocking chair and headed back over to the couch. And sat down on the carpeted area next to the coffee table, her back resting on the couch, she continued watching the last _Caprica_ scheduled. It wasn't too much longer before the blond behind her started showing signs of waking behind her. Rachel tamped down the butterflies and nervous reaction threatening to surface.

Quinn's consciousness slowly percolated to the surface, but it wasn't quite there yet. Smiling, she stretched luxuriously feeling warm and secure. She could still smell vanilla. That dream was. Wow. She touched her hand to her lips, swearing she could still feel delicious warmth here, blushing.

She opened her eyes slowly, and it filtered in where she was, and what she'd been dreaming. Her heart felt almost audible it was pumping and thumping so hard and fast in her chest now. Quickly she sat up, dizzy, taking in her surroundings slowly. She blinked.

_Okay, I'm on my couch. I was watching Caprica, and…fell asleep?_ She looked down at the remnants of blankets, and a red chenille scarf. How did that get there? She looked around. Based on the light outside, it was probably 4:30 or 5:00 by now, and it was getting dark.

"Hey there, sleepyhead." Finally she took in the shape of Rachel's shoulders and head that swiveled towards her leaned. She was sitting on the floor, using the couch as a backrest. When did she move?

"Jesus Rachel, you scared the bejeezus out of me!" She pulled her legs off the couch and put them on the floor, running her hands through the wreck of her hair, tugging out the ponytail holder. HBIC Quinn clicked into place, her face an indifferent mask. She hoped. She forced her mind to stuff her most recent and decidedly pleasant dream, and it's ramifications down. Deep, deep, deep down. To be dealt with later. That is what Fabrays do well, and she was no exception.

Rachel flinched a little. "Oh, I'm sorry. Earlier you said you weren't sleeping well…well, I just didn't want to disturb you." As she noted Quinn running her hands over the scarf, she continued. "Yeah, you were evidently…restless, and you got all tangled up with the blankets, so I went and got that to add reinforcements."

Quinn nodded, shaking her head as if to clear it. Rachel watched her face, concentration and confusion evident.

"Got it. Uh, thanks." Quinn's heart was still pounding, and flashes of her dream invaded her mind, her face heated up. She was glad the light level in the room at this time of day was too low for Rachel to see.

Trying to steer her mind and the conversation. "Well, sorry to bail on the _Caprica _marathon."

"No problem, it was good. My dads are not fans, I'm afraid. So it was good to catch up!" She hauled herself up to sit on the couch again. She smacked her hands down on her thighs. "Well, I guess I should probably let you enjoy the rest of your Saturday night? Any plans with Sam tonight?"

"Sam?"

"Sam? Your doting boyfriend, blond hair, goofy smile? Sam?"

Sam. Oh yeah. Sam, she mentally slapped herself. "Yeah, wow, I think I'm still drowsy. That was…a good nap."

Rachel arched her brow and rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet. Her lips quirked into a half smile. "Glad to hear it. You must have really needed some rest."

Quinn started looking around for her phone.

"If you're looking for your phone, I think it's on the back of the couch?" Quinn turned and grabbed it. "Thanks." She checked for messages. "Hm, none from Sam. Apparently I don't have plans. At least not with him. I think we're grabbing dinner and some guitar lessons tomorrow instead now. How about you? What're you and Finn up to this evening?"

Rachel looked at her own phone, checking message. "Well, let's see shall we? Ah, apparently the COD2, whatever game that is, game is intense. Or," she lifted her fingers into air quotes, "n as in the letter n, and tense."

Quinn laughed and used her best airhead voice. "Like OMG. Like totally?" She shook her head and returned to her normal speaking voice. "Hey, does Finn ever talk about someone called Solid Snake? I don't know what game it is, but I always think that is one hellaciously stupid name for a 'hero'."

Rachel put her hand to her forehead and shook her head. "Oh yes, yes indeed. I have heard that name come up in conversation, for lack of a better word." She sighed. "I know. Boys, right?"

Quinn cleared her throat and looked away. "Yeah, boys and their toys." Rachel looked back at her phone. "Anyhoo. Not sure about plans. My mom ought to be home eventually. She was grabbing dinner with a friend."

"No Santana and Brittany then I take it?"

The blond shook her head. "Yeah, you know, you don't always wanna crash one of their Saturday nights. You just never know with those two." She shook her head again to clear any visuals that was making pop up. Get it together Fabray, she told herself.

Rachel opened her mouth, and then shut it. "Ah. Gotcha."

"Yeah. You don't make that mistake more than once," she added.

The smaller girl cocked her head. "Well, do you want to maybe get some dinner? You're probably not interested, but sometimes, despite having a boyfriend now, I do still just hang out with my dads. Eat some sort of experiment one of them comes up with. Watch TV, or a movie…" she trailed off as she noticed Quinn cocking her head and looking at her. "Yeah, I know, I guess that's pretty boring. Although sometimes we do play poker too."

"Poker? You and your dads sit around and play…poker?" Quinn was dumbfounded.

"As a matter of fact, sometimes we do. My dads have this vague unexplained fear of me going off to college, going to parties and not knowing how to play poker. Something about frat parties and strip poker, and boys taking advantage of girls who don't know how to play? They also think I should know how to change my own oil. However, I have thus far escaped that particular lesson. Actually, poker helps me hone my acting skills."

"Seriously? Rachel, you know, you have like, NO poker face. Right? Do you ever win?"

Rachel looked affronted and a little pouty. "Well, okay, not very often. But that's the point of it, right? Practice makes perfect."

Quinn changed the subject quickly wanting to see the pouty face disappear as soon as possible. "Well, I can't argue with that. God knows that's what Sue keeps yelling at us. Well, not really that. More like 'practice makes you suck less.'.

The diva allowed Quinn to redirect the conversation, very aware that is what was happening.

"Honestly, I don't know how you guys handle her. Mr. Schue is all about building us up and Sue Sylvester seems like all about bringing you all down and making you feel bad. That is when she is not making everyone else feel worse."

"This is true. I don't know. It's just something I've gotten used to I guess."

Rachel eyed her, suddenly a little shy. Things were going well. Quinn seemed completely unaware she'd talked in her sleep, and she was perfectly happy to keep it that way. She didn't want to push it. She was very well aware that she could come on too strong. She took a breath. "Well, at any rate. If you don't have plans and are desperate for entertainment, you are welcome join me. They're doing a breakfast for dinner thing. They go crazy with the eggs when I'm not around, but I'd already asked them to save me a bagel…?"

"Well, I would hate to interrupt the 'intense' time the boys are having. Though I do wonder how Kurt is doing over there."

Quinn was actually torn. She was inexplicably keen to spend time with the other girl, but she was equally desperate to throw some normalcy into it. Although there was nothing normal about her hanging out with Rachel Berry. She swatted that obvious thought away though.

They both laughed. Quinn took a deep breath and raised her shoulders. "So, I guess I'm free?"

"Well alright then. I'll just text them let them know." She stopped and eyed the blond. "What?"

Quinn paused, sucking in her lips and tilting her head, thinking. "I don't suppose…no, never mind, you're Jewish."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Why do I have the feeling you're wondering about bacon?"

Quinn bit her lip. "I'm not…" She stared to protest, and then gave it up and huffed a little. "Okay, fine I was. However, bacon or not, I'm not going to look gift 'breakfast dinner' in the mouth." Rachel beamed, and she continued. "And how did you know it was bacon?"

Rachel shrugged, looking a little sheepish. "Word gets around? I seem to recall Noah making a statement regarding your likelihood of choosing bacon, or sex with bacon over sex with him."

"What?" Quinn shook her head and rolled her eyes.

Rachel shrugged. "I know. Ew. But you know Noah."

"I'm afraid I do", she sighed the admission.

"Anyway, for your information, Daddy isn't you know." Quinn looked at her, puzzled.

"Jewish I mean. Just my dad and I are Jewish. And it so happens, much to our chagrin, daddy happens to love bacon." Quinn's interest was piqued by that detail, and filed it away while Rachel continued. "So, there is a better than outside chance that there will be indeed be the smell of sizzling porcine flesh wafting through the house."

Seeing Quinn's eyes light up, Rachel couldn't help but guffaw, even as she wrinkled hew nose in disapproval. "Wow. I'm starting to see Noah's point."

She looked at her pointedly, and pretended to glare, having a hard time pulling it off. "So I like me some bacon. Sue me."

Rachel smirked ever so slightly, which had a curious effect on Quinn. Quinn started to cock her head while she contemplated the phenomenon. She managed to stop herself, worried that if she kept it up, Rachel was apt to start thinking she had some neurological tick. The diva was indeed looking at her curiously, and expectantly now.

"So, is that a yes then?"

She felt lips form a smile, despite herself."That is a…why not?" She noted the grin on the other girl's face. She found herself pleased to have put it there. "Oh, uh, just out of curiosity, will it be something besides a Barbra Streisand movie?"

Rachel stamped her foot. "For your information, I DO watch things besides Barbra Streisand you know. Besides, I think they're watching Iron Chef or something."

Quinn kept watching. Rachel tried to glare and laughed. "And I'm pretty sure the prospect of bacon has already hooked you. I might just put on a Barbra marathon just to test my theory."

"You wouldn't…"

"Oh, but I think you know better." Rachel grinned.

"Sadly, I do. Unless this is you using your bluffing skills you've been practicing in poker."

Rachel wiggled her eyebrows. "Maybe, Maybe not. Obviously, you have to ask yourself…do you feel lucky?"

"Ah, proof positive you've seen a movie Barbra was definitely not in." Quinn laughed as she headed towards the kitchen calling over her shoulder. "Not that lucky, no. You win. Let me clean up the kitchen and leave mom a note." She looked around. "Oh, hey! You sneaky wench. You cleaned it already? Wow, I suck at being a host, don't I? Thanks for that. You really shouldn't have."

"It was nothing, really. Like I said, you were…tired."

"Well" she said, making a show of wiping her hands clean gesture, "since the kitchen cleaning fairy made a surprise appearance, I guess all I need now is to go put on some real shoes, as I'm pretty sure driving in house shoes is illegal."

"It is indeed. I'll see if they need me to pick up anything else." Rachel watched her. She admitted to herself then that she was going to have to ponder the possibility that Quinn Fabray had indeed been dreaming about her. But not right now. The chances were she was completely mistaken. And even if she wasn't, it was just a dream. Quinn had Sam doting on her. And she finally had Finn. Still, she knew she was likely to worry this to the bone at some point. But that point was not now.

* * *

Quinn didn't even know she was smiling as she took the stairs two at a time.

She trotted down the hall to her closet and looked into her shoe rack. The orderly display calmed her. Much like her shoes, she had compartments for everything in her mind. And right now, she was keeping as tight a lid as she possibly could on everything that was apparently bubbling at the surface.

"Ready?" Rachel had already gotten her jacket and was winding her scarf around her neck, smiling. Quinn noted that the scarf really went well with her skin coloration. She stopped short of saying so though.

"Yep!" She grabbed the note pad on the fridge and jotted a quick note.

**Having dinner with Rachel Berry from glee**  
**See you when... Q**

Her mom didn't pry about her life anymore, so it was really an unspoken courtesy to her mom that she added the information that she was spending the evening with an obviously female friend. She posted the note, and grabbed her keys. Her phone buzzed. She growled and hauled it out of her coat pocket. Opening the phone, she looked at the caller ID, puzzled.

"Who the hell is Kenny Smithson?"

**A/N Thanks for all the reviews everyone! especially the ones that don't have accounts that I can thank you for personally. They make me grin!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up has already aired.  
**Rated:** R for language

**A/N: Yup! still Unbeta'd. The whippets don't catch too many grammar mistakes, sorry. So… still sorry for all mistakes, feel free to point them out. Reviews would still be very much appreciated, as we all know authors live off of them, even part time authors like moi. And I still love popcorn.**

**A/N 2: ****Yes, long long hiatus, sorry sorry! Go Liverpool. We need a win. gf bought me a new t-shirt that I'm testing today!  
**

**

* * *

**

Rachel stopped with as she was picking up her keys from counter.

She looked at Quinn long and hard. "Kenny Smithson? You don't know?" Quinn looked her. "I do not. Hence the 'who the hell is Kenny Smithson' comment."

Rachel shook her head. "He is in our English class. Granted, I don't know why he is calling you…"

Quinn smacked her head. "Dammit. I _knew_ S was up to no good." She flipped open her phone. "Hello?"

Rachel stood there, one hand on her hip shaking her head. Quinn looked over at her and shrugged. "Uh no, Kenny, I think Santana must have had a little brain fart and accidentally put my number in your phone." She paused, looking over at Rachel, her body language clearly saying 'see? I'm being nice, are you happy?'

The diva did at least quit tapping her foot, pursed her lips and nodded her head side to side in semi-approval. Quinn continues. "Oh, yes. You know how it's hard to remember your own number sometimes, right? He heh?" Quinn looked at Rachel again, arching her brow and giving thumbs up sign. Rachel nodded back approvingly.

"Well, Kenny, not a problem. Why don't you let me give you Santana's number real quick? I'm sure she's wondering why she hasn't heard from you." There was a pause. "You know, I think she wanted to get together with Brittany to study also." Pause. "Yes, you're right, she lives on Fairlane." Pause

Rachel tilted her head conveying her suspicion and curiosity. "Well, that is a stellar idea Kenny." The blond shrugged her shoulders innocently, looking at the brunette. She heaved a sigh. "You might want to give her a call before showing up though, I'm just saying." She looked at the diva to see if that satisfied her, trying to keep the smirk off her face. The brunette raised her shrugged her hands and nodded. "Okay, Kenny. Good luck with that. No problem. I'm sure it was an honest mistake on Santana's part." She closed her phone.

"Honest mistake my ass," Quinn quipped.

"Okay, but do you really want to send poor Kenny into Lima's own Hellmouth? Really?"

"Well I told him to call first, right?"

"I guess. Still, be it on **your** head if Kenny turns up missing on Monday," she trailed off, raising her hands.

The blond picked up her keys from the table, glancing over at the other girl, who was shaking her head. She sighed. "Okay, okay."

"Okay what?"

"Okay, I _maybe_ shouldn't have sent an innocent bystander into the Lima Hellmouth."

"And?" Rachel crossed her arms and waited, expectantly.

"And, fine, what do you want me to do?"

"I don't know, what do you think you should do?"

"You sound like a shrink," Quinn replied with amusement.

"I do not," she huffed.

"Yeah, you kinda do,"

The diva pursed her lips in a flat line and raised an eyebrow.

Quinn rolled he eyes and sighed. "Look, we'll drive by there and see if all is well…?"

Rachel bobbed her head back and forth as if weighing the idea.

"Are you making a pro/con list? You are, aren't you?"

Rachel harumphed. "In fact I am. Are we going to go in, or just drive by?"

Rachel disregarded the growling sounds escaping the blond, and seemed more amused than frightened by this, as she waited for an answer.

Quinn raised her hands in defeat. "Okay. Look, we'll drive by. If it's just them, I'll text her and warn her, okay? If there is a car there…we'll go and check on them. But I am NOT knocking on that door if it's not necessary. Is that good enough?"

Placated, Rachel smiled in victory. "That would suffice I think."

Quinn crossed her arms and looked at her pointedly. "Huzzah. But then you're driving. Parking's a bitch over there."

"Fair enough." She pulled out her phone to text her dad.

**Rachel:** Stopping by a friend's study group. Don't wait on food or anything. Be there when…"

**Dad:** Sure thing hon

**Rachel:** Going out on a limb. There is bacon, yes?

**Dad: **Alas, yes. Sorry hon, you know Daddy.

**Rachel:** Thought so. Save some. Not for me obviously.

**Dad:** Obviously. Will try…

She smiled and shut her phone and turned Quinn. "Are we ready?"

"Oh yes. And I'm beside myself with anticipation, " Quinn laughed lightly, and let out another half growl. She picked up her house keys and shook her head. "I can't believe we have to go check on … whatshisname."

"Kenny Smithson. And it's the right thing to do," the brunette countered looking self-satisfied.

"Yeah yeah. Go on. After you, fearless leader." She picked up her keys and headed out, grabbing her coat and fleece scarf and gloves.

* * *

It was chilly out and Rachel could see her breath as walked to the car. She looked up at the sky thoughtfully. Still overcast.

Quinn noticed her looking. "Think it'll snow?"

"I don't think so, but it could freeze over night if we see rain I suppose. But it seems early for snow. Which is too bad. I love it."

"Me too. Though I hope it holds off until Daylight Savings Time starts."

"Ooookay? Why is that, do you mind me asking? I just mean that seems rather arbitrary", she laughed.

"Ah, yes. Well, I managed to talk Coach into letting us wear 'civilian' clothes on non-game days. Hey, her word, not mine.

"Ah, then I concur. I would love to see some early snow, but I certainly can get behind hoping it waits until you can wear suitably warm clothing."

"You and me both," Quinn agreed emphatically.

Rachel put on her seat belt, checked her mirrors and turned to Quinn. "So. Buckled up? Good. Now. Where to? I can put it in the GPS or…"

Quinn looked at her puzzled before realizing Rachel would never have been to Santana's house for any reason. "Oh, I guess you don't know where she lives. Duh. Okay, it's only about 10 minutes from here. Head up 309."

"Roger." She eased the car into reverse and pulled out, naturally stopping to look both ways, three times each, before backed out into the street and headed out. Quinn thought she heard a giggle, and looking over, she realized she had indeed heard a giggle.

"What's up Berry, care to share with the rest of the class," Quinn allowed a little sarcasm to drip into her voice.

"Oh nothing. I was just thinking of those bumper stickers you see on cars. You know, like…, _Dog is my Co-Pilot_. _Visualize Whirled Peas_…and the ever popular _Honk if you love Jesus_…"

"Yes…?" She dragged out the word.

"I was just having this absurd vision of one on my car that says "_HBIC is my Co-Pilot._"

Quinn's jaw dropped. Finally she let out a half laugh, half cough.

Rachel looked over a little nervously, still giggling.

"Well…I'll try not to get you lost. Wouldn't be good for my rep if we got lost, would it?"

"Heh heh, I guess it wouldn't."

Quinn shook her head wondering what kind of reputation she really had now anyway. She found she didn't care as much.

"Okay, next street up, hang a left."

"Right."

"No left."

Rachel looked over at her. "I know. I mean, 'right', as in correct. Not as in that I should turn…"

"Rachel!" Quinn yelped, interrupting her. Rachel jumped, startled. "What?"

The other girl slapped her forehead and sighed. "That was it. You were supposed to turn **left** there."

Rachel pulled her shoulders up, looking sheepish. "Oh. Er. Oops. Uh. Okay, I'll turn left at the next intersection."

"You do that, Miss Earhart," she quipped. "You can just hang two lefts and you'll be back on track."

"Two lefts. Right then."

"No, two lefts and then another left. Dork"

"I _meant_ two lefts, 'got it'."

"Kidding Rachel."

"Yeah, well I was messing with you too. And just so you know, I am an excellent driver."

"An excellent driver? Hm," Quinn teased. "While I will agree you have occasionally exhibited similar qualities, I have to ask, do you really want to go around quoting Rain Man and inviting comparisons just now?"

Rachel looked over at her passenger, and noticed the slight smile playing around her lips, and the slight shake of her head as she tried to suppress a giggle. She looked relaxed. Despite just having had Quinn's infamous sarcasm leveled at her, Rachel found herself smiling hugely. But she answered simply.

"Perhaps not."

"Okay then."

Rachel looked over again, her face filled with unbridled enthusiasm. "Speaking of Rain Man, I happen to have the Rain Man soundtrack on my Itouch if you want to turn that on? It is quite good I think. Even if there is relatively little singing."

"Will it help us get through this ordeal faster and then to your house for bacon?"

"Probably not."

She caught the shrug of indifference out of the corner of her eye and glanced over yet again, and Rachel could see there was still a ghost of a smile playing around her lips. Then again, Quinn's lips always looked like they were about to smile lately. She audited that thought, and continued her inner monolog, wonder how often she looked at Quinn's lips in the first place to come up with that statement. She would have to think about that later, she decided, startled when the blond spoke again.

"Then I think we're good at the moment, besides we're almost there now. Left, left, **Left**!" Rachel made an "eep" sound at the shouting and hauled on the steering wheel.

Quinn quite suddenly found herself yelping expletives and lurching towards her car window as the Rachel made an exceedingly abrupt left turn. Rachel yelped when the brakes squealed and then she pulled over to the curb immediately and looked at Quinn, eyes wide. She took a deep breath.

"Quinn. I'm sorry if I scared you! I really am an excellent driver." She couldn't help but wince at the incredulous look Quinn gave her. "I mean, when I'm not distracted. I promise it won't happen again."

Quinn was just shaking her head. "Have you been watching some crazy ass Fast and Furious marathon lately? This is not Tokyo Drift!"

The tiny brunette looked a little pale. "No! Really, I swear. I passed my driving test and Daddy…."

Quinn cleared her throat, cutting her off. "Uh huh. Well remind me to ask you what was distracting you so we can avoid that, right? Okay?" Her blood was pumping from the unpleasant surprise Dukes of Hazard move.

"Okay. But, well, you were." _Awesome filtration process there. Nice. S_he berated herself.

"I didn't realize I was a driving hazard," the shaken cheerleader couldn't help but quip, secretly a little pleased.

And Rachel couldn't help but look again. She could here it in her voice, and indeed there was the ghost smile again. She liked seeing that smile she decided.

* * *

They were almost to Santana's when a text came in and even though she wasn't driving, Quinn made Rachel pull over to avoid an unfortunate onset of carsickness.

**Santana:** R U Mad? Or just insane? Why was there a sniveling English geek on my doorstep just now?

Quinn glanced at Rachael with a rueful shake of the head indicating that the gig was up. She decided to be circumspect for the time being.

**Quinn:** What?

**Santana:** Kenny Smithson!

**Quinn:** Who is that? New bloke?

**Santana:** Har har. This is how S Cs it. Divine retribution will be visited on you.

Quinn had no response for that. She knew that the next few days would be touch and go with Santana scorned and she had no intention of starting in on it sooner than necessary.

"How about we head on our merry way? I think my job here is done."

Rachel looked over, puzzled.

"Kenny is fine. I, however, may have some unpleasantness in my not too distant future."

* * *

The drive to Rachel's house went extremely slowly, as the diva now felt the need to use an abundance of caution in a bid to add weight to her claim that she was indeed an excellent driver.

Quinn fiddled with the radio until she tuned into the OSU college radio, and they tooled along in relative silence, while Rachel took an extremely slow turn onto her street. Quinn couldn't tell in the dark, but it looked like a nice little nook of a neighborhood. There was Prius parked in the driveway of course.

"Well, here we are, safe and sound," Rachel put the car in park and announced unnecessarily.

"Barely…," Quinn extricated herself from the car and cocked an eyebrow at the brunette over the hood of the car as she shut the door. This elicited a nervous grin from the other girl.

"Come on, bacon might make you feel better."

"Maybe…"

The door opened into a cozy anteroom, and the smell of eggs and the unmistakable aroma of bacon and coffee, and some vaguely familiar sounding music played in the background. She could hear the murmur of voices, and some laughter.

"Hello? We're here," Rachel called out as she pulled off her coat and gloves. She rearranged the other coats and scarves on the ornate coat antique rack, making room for Quinn's things. She held out her hand for Quinn's coat and scarf. Quinn stuffed her gloves in her coat pocket and handed them over to Rachel.

Quinn sniffed the air. "Wow, you guys really do full on breakfast! I smell coffee too."

"Oh yes. Decaf of course. Dad gets too wired if he has coffee after noon. If you think _**I**_ talk too much, you _really_ don't want to see daddy on caffeine.

Quinn looked horrified for half a second before she caught herself, and unsuccessfully attempted to cover her smirk with her hand

"I saw that Fabray," Rachel pointed out.

"Sorry. I just…wow. That is just, wow."

Just then, a tall bespectacled man wearing fluffy comfortable looking house shoes, jeans and a grey Kenyon sweatshirt appeared around the corner smiling.

"Hi honey! Glad you made it home for 'brinner'. I begrudgingly saved some bacon for…you?" He turned to face Quinn. "You must be Rachel's bacon eating friend? You dad thought it was going to be Finn, and I was having a hard time convincing myself to save anything. That boy wolfs everything down, and Jonathan thinks he doesn't really take the time to savor food anyway, and what is the point of saving him any bacon if he is not going to able to even taste it I ask you?" He took a deep breath and turned to Quinn. "You, however, are decidedly not a six foot tall bundle of hormones, are you? I'm Curtis." He held out his hand.

Quinn mouth was close to hanging, but she kept it up. She was marveling at the man's nonstop flow of words, and was caught off guard when he suddenly introduced himself, but she held out her hand and gave it a shake. She wasn't used to shaking hands as a greeting, but everything she'd ever heard indicated a firm handshake was a good thing, so she shook it firmly.

Rachel deadpanned. "Yes, hard to believe someone talks more than me? Well I had to get it from someone didn't I?"

Quinn glanced at her, wanting to laugh, but not wanting to offend the man in front of her. He laughed and shrugged. "She gets it from both of us, I'm afraid."

Quinn caught his infectious smile, and her stomach tightened nervously knowing her next statement may have an adverse affect on that charming smile.

"Hello Mr. Berry, I'm…I'm Quinn Fabray. Rachel and I are in glee together and we have some classes together this year as well."

She cringed inwardly, suspecting her name might ring a bell with the other man. She had no idea how much Rachel's dads knew about Quinn's role as chief tormentor in Rachel's life most of her freshman and sophomore year. However, as often as Rachel talked about her dads she suspected they were close and probably did not have pleasant associations with her name. Watching the man's face in front of her when he heard her name confirmed that for her.

"Quinn Fabray," his face got ponderous for a moment, and smile dropped ever so slightly. He gave Rachel the quickest of looks. Rachel smiled at him and nodded slightly.

He cocked his head slightly and then turned to smile at his guest. "Well Quinn Fabray, it's very nice to meet you. Please! Come in!" He gestured for her to precede him through the arched entrance to the living room area. "We're eating in the kitchen, just keep going there and follow your nose around to the back." He took the moment while Quinn was heading away to look again at his daughter. Rachel leaned in and squeezed his arm, whispering out of the other girl's earshot. "Yes, _that_ Quinn. Older, wiser. I think? I'm fine. We're fine. Bygones. Don't worry."

"Okay, hon, I trust you and your instincts." He smiled but still looked a little worried.

She smiled at him. "It's okay I think. She's….changed."

He took a breath and nodded and smiled warmly "Okay then. Goodness knows you can have that kind of effect on people." He squeezed her shoulder as they followed Quinn towards the kitchen. "So where is Stretch tonight anyway?"

Rachel shook her head and groaned dramatically. "He's playing video games."

"Of course he is," he squeezed her shoulder and patted it and laughed in sympathy. "No bacon for him then."

"No bacon for him," Rachel agreed.

* * *

**A/N Okay, sorry, sorry sorry for such a long hiatus! Oh how I've missed fanfiction trying to insist that 'Quinn' is 'Quint'. Gah. Anyway. Tried to make a longer chapter, and working on next now. Had work, got sick, etc. Back on a roll now… thanks everyone for reading and reviewing. The comments and reviews get the creative juices flowing. On to the next chapter!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up has already aired.  
**Rated:** R for language

**A/N: Well…still Unbeta'd. Sorry for all mistakes, feel free to point them out. Reviews would still be very much appreciated, as we all know authors live off of them, even part time authors like moi. And I still love popcorn.**

**A/N 2: Thanks everyone again for kind reviews and the adds and all, they definitely keep me writing : ) Hope you guys enjoy this one, it was fun writing. Yes, I let my inner history freak geek flag fly at the end. It did not get me a career, so it's nice to use it somewhere.**

The bright kitchen was redolent with scrumptious smells, and Quinn had no problem following her nose all the way. She peered hesitantly around the corner, her hands clasped in front of her. She paused hesitantly before she addressed the man shaped blur of activity standing in front of the kitchen island. He was whisking something in a metal mixing bowl, bobbing his head with the music. She ventured a comment. "It smells delicious in here."

The balding man with a pleasantly round face looked up, a little startled, but he kept whisking. "Ah, why thank you! And you must be the bacon eater?"

Quinn shifted a little nervously, unclasping her hands and moving them behind her back. "I'm afraid I am, Mr. Berry. I'm Quinn Fa—"

She felt a small hand behind her between her shoulder blades, causing her to jump a little as Rachel and her other dad appeared behind her. "Dad, this is Quinn Fabray, and I'm pretty sure that it is frowned upon in polite society to give someone a sobriquet based on their dietary habits, real or imagined."

"Oh, no, it's okay Rachel," Quinn started to say, but she caught the studious look the diva was giving her now.

Quinn smiled. "It's okay, I'll own it."

"Thatta girl" approved Curtis, his mouth pulled in a wry smile. "Well, as long as you don't eat as much as Ms. Thing's beau, you're alright by me."

Quinn smiled, a little more at ease. "Well, as much as I enjoy bacon, I doubt I could ever put away as much food as Finn Hudson."

"I'd be worried if you could" the shorter man agreed as he continued. "Have a seat if you'd like. The coveted pork flesh is over on the table already, help yourself."

Rachel made her way to the refrigerator. "Let's see, we have V8 juice, iced tea and…" she moved things around "two percent and skim milk, and of course whole milk. What else? Oh cranberry juice. And of course the decaf coffee. Oh, and hot chocolate if they haven't drank it all." She looked over the fridge door expectantly.

Jonathan looked over. "There should be some left. We're not pigs you know."

Quinn clasped her hands behind her back again. "Well you touted your hot chocolate earlier. However, cranberry juice sounds good with…'brinner'" Rachel nodded in agreement and grabbed the requested beverage and went in search of glasses.

Feeling bold Quinn pointed to the metal mixing bowl. "So are you making pancakes there Mr. Berry?"

Curtis laughed and folded his arms as he watched his husband. "Oh no, I'm afraid you happen to have caught us on an experimental night Quinn. We'll see if turns out to be a lucky thing for you or not. He's attempting crépes this evening."

Jonathan looked up. "Attempting is an apt description. I'm hoping this crépe maker is magic. Rach, you want to get out the fillings? I've got cream cheese, jams, apples and cheese back there. Cinnamon…somewhere. And, if all else fails, we can just pretend there are pancakes and pour syrup on them." He looked up and winked at Quinn.

She smiled back shyly and moved to the kitchen. "I can help there Rachel. What can I do?"

Rachel smiled. "There are bowls in the cabinet left of the sink. Grab the glass ones; we can portion out the fillings to serve. Dad fancies himself the Barefoot Count sometimes."

Jonathan snorted. "Hmph. See if you get any then missy."

"Well jeez, aren't you guys full? Didn't you already have eggs Florentine?"

Another loud snort from across the kitchen filled the room, as Curtis sighed and put his hands in his pockets. "Well…if _somebody_…me being that somebody, had remembered to pick up more eggs, then there would have been Eggs Florentine. As it is…bagels and bacon for us so far."

Rachel shut the cabinet she was rooting around in and looked at her dad with exaggerated frustration.

"Dad, we could have picked up more eggs on the way home. I don't eat them, but I know you guys do. You should have let me know."

Curtis smiled and shook his head. "That's okay hon. More room for crépes, right? "

"Or more hungry if these go awry" warned Jonathan.

The breakfast nook and table was a little crowded with dishes and fixings and people, but it was cozy and very comfortable.

They'd spent the last forty five minutes watching Rachel's dad try to distribute the crépe batter evenly, while they set the table and enjoyed the Van Morrison in the background. Each time he finished one Rachel and Curtis had started giving him a score like they were Olympic judges.

Eventually they'd cajoled her into joining in on their sport. Naturally, in an attempt to butter up the chef, she'd given high scores at first. Before she knew it they were referencing some ice-skating judging scandal, and saying she was selling her vote to the Russians. She had no idea what they were talking about, and made a mental note to Google it later. But Curtis and Rachel both whooped and clapped when she finally succumbed and gave a mock horrified Jonathan an arbitrary 3.2 score for a bad dismount and not sticking the landing when his next crépe bunched up unevenly on the skillet.

She put on an innocent face shrugged her shoulders when Jonathan gasped. "Apparently I can be bought off?"

"Apparently. I hope the bacon is worth your integrity Quinn," he laughed and shook his head.

She found her cheeks hurt from smiling, and not in a bad forced way, like in cheerleading.

Rachel surreptitiously observed her frienemy, as she interacted with her dad while she set the plates out. She looked like she was enjoying herself. She knew just enough about Quinn to know that her judgmental hypocritical jackass of a father had left her and her mom. She couldn't help but feel a weird symmetrical entanglement with the other girl. She couldn't quite figure out. Her two dads and Quinn's lack of one. Quinn's mother, and her own lack of one. And then there was Shelby. It made her head hurt, so she quit trying to follow the specific strands and just accepted they existed.

Quinn used her fork to cut into one of the delicate crépe she'd rolled up, somewhat unsuccessfully, and it threatened to fall off her fork as she brought it to her mouth. Dipping her head quickly, she moved to snap it up before it slid off.

"Brava! I'll give that a 5.5…" Jonathan winked at her as she recovered. Quinn swallowed feeling a weird sense of embarrassment momentarily. In her own home, when her dad was there, she couldn't imagine having done that. Her parents, and especially her dad would have scolded her. In fact, he probably would have turned and scolded her mother for allowing Quinn to do such a thing. She flushed a little and covered her mouth with her napkin.

Rachel had observed across the table, and narrowed her eyes in thought. She had seen the Fabray house. It had looked cozy inside in parts of the house, but some parts they hadn't walked through looked a bit like a museum. She had a hunch that Quinn's parents had probably been pretty uptight and very stiff upper lip types. That would certainly go a long way towards explaining the mask of good behavior Quinn was capable of putting on in the blink of an eye. Not that she couldn't do the same, but she attributed it more to her own interest in pursuing acting as part of her plans for the future, and not down to her parents having two by fours stuck up their collective asses.

Jonathan's eyes flicked to his husband's. Curtis had raised his eyebrow and gave the slightest tilt of his head. Reading into that, Jonathan took his cue and teased her a little more, trying to make her feel at ease.

"Ah, I see, you can dish it out, but you can't take, eh, Quinn? Well, we'll cure you of that if you hang around." He smiled and winked at her, and she looked a great deal more comfortable..

Then he spread his hands and gestured towards the table. "So. Tell me the truth, what do you guys think? I see no one actually resorted to pancake syrup at least?"

Rachel squinted and tilted her head. "Well…dad, they're yummy. But...I don't think these don't quite look like Alton Brown's crépes dad. I'm just saying."

Curtis and looked at her pile of crépes and laughed. "Well, not that I don't want to keep giving him hell here, but dear, you can't fault the chef for your assembly issues. You're the one who over-stuffed them my dear."

"Finally! My supposed beloved one and only comes to my defense at last! Sheesh!" He shook his head, and gestured at his family. "Ingrates, aren't they Quinn?"

Quinn swallowed her bite and looked around, soaking in their good humor as she spoke up. "Mr. Berry, I think they're wonderful. If I didn't, I wouldn't have embarrassed myself flopping about like a otter, or a dolphin or something trying to not drop my bite!"

"Well thank you Quinn. It's nice that somebody appreciates my efforts. I'm delighted you enjoyed them."

"Aw dad, they were tasty. Just a little thin."

"Which…" Curtis and Jonathan spoke simultaneously.

Rachel raised her hand, "I know, I know is because you made them without eggs for me..."

They chimed in again. "Which is…?

Rachel sighed and rolled her eyes and smiled. "Because you love and adore me. How could you not?"

"Ah, there we go. Some proper appreciation." Quinn looked at both of Rachel's dads who were beaming. It made her feel full with some unidentified burning sensation. She chuffed lightly.

Rachel turned slightly more serious then. "Thanks dad, they really are good. And thanks for trying the no eggs version."

"Very good!" Quinn agreed whole-heartedly.

She'd never had crépes before and thought they were delicious, if a bit messy.

"Actually, I want to thank all of you for having me, and you for making these wonderful crépes, Mr. Berry. And also you," she nodded her head towards Curtis, not sure how to differentiate between the two Mr. Berrys. "Er Mr. Berry, for saving me some bacon!"

He laughed. "You can call me Curtis. Or Mr. Campbell technically. But Curtis is fine. And I'm sure Jonathan wouldn't mind if you called him Jonathan instead of Mr. Berry."

He looked pointedly at Rachel. "That does not go for Finn, young lady. We are definitely Mr. Campbell and Mr. Berry to him, just so you know."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "I know daddy."

Jonathan rubbed his hands together. "Well, Curtis, my dear. I think you get to help me clean up. The price you pay for forgetting the eggs."

"Oh, Mr. Berry, Jonathan, please let me. You did all the work."

"Nonsense. Besides, ask them, I don't let anyone else touch my cooking accoutrement, do I guys?"

"It's true Quinn. Not until he's scarred, cracked, dropped, scratched it..."

"Or thrown it down in frustration" Rachel added.

"Hey, I don't throw cookware."

"Oh, the salad spinner contraption you bought begs to differ."

"I didn't _throw_ it, I was using it…and…oh never mind. Curtis, let's clean up and let the girls unwind after all the studying they did today."

Curtis nodded and got up and followed Jonathan into the kitchen.

Quinn got up but started picking up plates. Rachel smiled and nodded approval and helped her, which is when Curtis started to protest. And Quinn was having none of that. "Sorry Mr…Berry, Curtis. There is _no_ way I'm not going to at least help clear the table. My mother would be horrified. Besides I owe Rachel one. She straightened my kitchen for me today when I rudely crashed out for an unplanned siesta today."

"Alright, alright, but no dish washing."

They made short work of it, scraping away plates and putting away condiments. Quinn kept quiet while they made small talk about the day.

Curtis turned to his daughter. "So Rach, how was Esther today? Did Po behave? Can't say I'm disappointed you didn't bring me the present from him you promised one of us."

Rachel laughed at that. "They were fine. Mr. Given perked up a lot as usual when I brought him by."

Quinn listened. She was seconds from asking what exactly Rachel had been up to that day, as she had assumed it was something like voice lessons. Nothing was quite fitting together, so finally she asked.

"Okay, who is Po?"

"Ah, Po, or Napoleon, is a well, I guess you'd call him an unofficial therapy dog. He lives over at the Lima Horizon Center."

When Quinn looked blankly at him, Rachel continued for him. "It's a senior center. Assisted living." Quinn eyes widened a little and she nodded, a little surprised. "So, Po is her little terrier mutt dog. He's really well behaved."

Jonathan started filling the sink with hot water and soap.

"Rachel walks him for her, and she also takes him around to the other residents, or at least the ones that want to see him. Which, if I'm not mistaken, is most of them, right hon?"

Rachel nodded. "Some of them are not all that responsive at first, but after awhile, they really warm up to him, and they just love on him."

Curtis grabbed a towel and took up the space next to sink, ready to take on dish drying duties. He waved at them. "Scat, take it to the living room. We've got this. Quinn, we usually watch a movie or sometimes play some scrabble. Or poker, if you have money that is." He grinned evilly.

Rachel whacked him lightly on the shoulder "Daddy, don't be silly. Quinn, he's not serious, of course we don't play for real money." She gestured to Quinn and headed towards the den. "Come on, you can take a look at our admittedly ridiculous movie selections, or if you're feeling brave, there is poker or Scrabble."

* * *

Quinn followed, still turning over the fact that Rachel apparently volunteered her free time on the weekend. Quinn was impressed, but also taken aback. She hoped not visibly so.

Rachel stopped and plopped down in front of a massive hardwood bookcase filled with DVDs and VHS tapes, gesturing for Quinn to take a look. Quinn sat down next to her and cocked her head sideways to read the titles.

Rachel smiled knowingly at her.

"Hm, let me guess. You thought I was off at voice lessons, or dance lessons or something."

Quinn paused, and looked over at her attempting to choose her words carefully. After a few seconds, she bobbed her head. "Well, yeah…?"

"Ha. I knew it. Well, do you spend all your free time working on routines for the Cheerios?

"Well, I used to. But…"

"You decided there was more to life than just being at the top of the pyramid?" Rachel cocked her head, and tried not to sound unduly incredulous or flippant.

"Well, first that was decided FOR me, if you'll recall. Second, I'm back up there, thank you very much. But yes, I'll agree I somewhat came to that conclusion. After, well, Babygate, as it has become known in lore far and wide, I just decided that I'd spend more time on other things as well." Her tone had become serious, but then she lightened it again. "I also vowed to stop passing up bacon. Sue Sylvester can 'C' me eating bacon. As long as I make weight and am healthy, I'll eat what I damn well want. Life's too short." she grinned.

Rachel nodded thoughtfully. "Well alright then." It was oddly and bewilderingly easy to just…forget sometimes that Quinn had been pregnant. Which was weird because it was during that time that Quinn had actually become, if not actually pleasant to Rachel, at least less hostile.

Rachel turned towards her, speaking earnestly. "Well, don't get me wrong, I _am_ **going** to be on Broadway one day, mark my words." Quinn interrupted her. "Berry, Rachel, we…I don't doubt it. No one with any working set of ears doubts it. Trust me. Whether they want to or not, they don't doubt."

Rachel at least had the grace to look embarrassed by the grudgingly truthful, if unexpected vote of confidence. "Well, thank you, Quinn. Thank you. But well that doesn't mean I can't work on…I don't know, being a better person."

Quinn apparently looked a little dubious despite her best efforts.

Rachel bit her lip and smiled. "Okay, full disclosure?"

"My experience is that you excel in that department Rachel." Quinn cocked her eyebrow and was rewarded with an exasperated and slightly pouty 'hmph' before the diminutive future star continued with her explanation.

"Fine. I started it because it looks good on college applications. Makes sense, right? And, well, my dads really wanted me to be a bit more…well-rounded shall we say?"

"Ah." Quinn said wryly.

"Yes. But, once I started doing it early last year, it became, kinda addictive? I know that probably sounds like bullshit."

Quinn would normally be inclined to agree. But she had also just enjoyed two hours of absolutely Norman Rockwell-esque family dinner time with Rachel and her dads (if Norman Rockwell had known any families that had two gay dads that is). And in that short time, she got the feeling that those two men had probably done everything they could to instill a sense community and good will into the incredibly driven girl sitting next to her. She guessed it had taken hold. Which is more than she could say about herself.

She turned and looked at her and ran her hand through her hair. "No. No, it doesn't sound like bullshit to me Rachel."

"Really?" She looked surprised.

"Really. Your dads seem great. I imagine they are very proud of you."

"Thanks Quinn. I hope so." Quinn could see she was beaming quietly now, if such a thing was possible.

Turning her attention from the radiant girl, she distracted herself by pulling out a movie called Bound from the case. "I heard this was good. Granted it was from Puck and from Santana, so perhaps that should be taken with a grain of salt."

"Yeah, okay I just don't think we wanna watch that with my dads. Trust me."

Quinn shrugged and put it back.

"Anyway, Esther and Po?" Quinn turned her head sideways again and pulled out another movie. "Uh, Showgirls? Really?"

"Hey now. I don't have control over what my dads bring home. As for Esther and Po, yeah, they're great. Po is great. Except when I'm picking up his poo..."

Quinn laughed. "Ah, that is the present from Po referred to earlier I take it?"

Rachel giggled. "Yeah, one time I double-bagged up some Hershey Kisses for daddy, and then I tagged it with a note 'From Po' and left it in his front seat."

"No!"

"Oh yeah. Unfortunately, it was late summer, and it melted, and was bit messier than I had anticipated…"

"No!"

"Indeed. However, dad thought it was hilarious, so it was a win!"

"Wow, if you weren't Jewish, you'd have to worry about getting coal in your stockings I would think."

Rachel made "pfft" sound. "Hey, I get the best of both worlds. Daddy isn't Jewish, so we do…well, 'seasonal' stuff during the Holidays. We do a tree and lights, and all that at Christmas and we light the menorah for Hanukah too. Good will towards everyone, right?"

"Huh, I guess that sound good." She was still looking at DVDs. She started to reach for a VHS tape on the bottom row out of curiosity. There was the typical Disney fare, and then there was a row of tapes that had Rachel's name and years attached to them. '**Rachel: 1996**', **'Rachel: 1997**', and so on. "So dare I ask what's on the VHS tapes?"

"Uh, no. You daren't." Rachel shook her head vehemently.

"Okay then." Quinn ignored her. She reached for one.

"Hey!"

"What?" Quinn was a little surprised. "Tap recitals, singing recitals? Like I haven't seen you perform?" She looked at her in true surprise, and then with exaggerated suspicion. "Hm, now wait a minute here…Rachel Berry passes up a chance to show off her undoubtedly spectacular even at a young age talent? Who are you, and what have you done with the real Rachel Berry?"

"Yeah yeah, smartass." Rachel folded her arms striking her best stubborn pose, which lost some effect as there was a small smile was playing around her lips. Quinn raised her eyebrows and put her finger to her chin.

"Hm, I wonder if I compliment your dad on his crépes again he might tell me…."

The diva rolled her eyes. "Oh shut it. I should make you watch them just to torture you. I know very well you don't want to see them."

Quinn smiled. "Okay Berry. Fine, have your secrets. So what do YOU want to watch then?"

"Oh, I have seen most of these, so really within _reason,_ it's up to you. We can even play some poker or scrabble first, and then watch a movie if you feel like it and aren't too tired."

Quinn put her hand to her chin again and smiled deviously and then smirked confidently. "Poker sounds good actually. Besides, I'd own your ass at Scrabble."

"Oh you think so? You're kidding me right?" Rachel's mouth gaped. "Are you kidding me?"

"Oh I don't think so, I _know_ so Rachel. What do you think I was doing when I was sitting around pregnant out to here?" She put her hands out a foot in front of her belly. "You don't want to _know_ how many crossword puzzles and Word Searches I completed sitting on a toilet. You know how many times I had to leave rehearsal to go pee, right? Well, between that and studying for the PSAT, and the SATS, and ACTs and SOLs, I've got more fifty cent words, no make that seventy five cent words, than you would know what to do with. Believe it."

Rachel looked confident still, but couldn't help looking impressed. Quinn noticed and smirked before pressing her point home, literally and figuratively. She lightly poked Rachel on the sternum once. "That's right Rachel. I'm your worst nightmare. I'm a secret vocabulary ninja."

Rachel's eyes crinkled and she covered her mouth as she started to giggle.

Quinn eyes sparkled and she nodded, finding it inexplicably pleasing to be making Rachel Berry crack up. "Quinn Fabray. HBIC, ex-Juno, and yes, vocabulary ninja super hero. Deal with it."

Rachel was really giggling now. "Okay, Fabray, consider the gauntlet thrown down."

Quinn looked up in thought, and paused before speaking again. "Hm. _Gauntlet_. Origin Middle English from Old French for glove. Part of medieval armor. Protection for the hand. Also considered a prelude to a challenge of honor in Medieval Chivalric Europe. As in 'she picked up the gauntlet and smacked her with it, accepting the challenge.'" She turned and raised her eyebrow cockily. _"Chivalric_. Knightly. Rooted in the Norman French word for horse."

Rachel's giggling subsided but her good humor did not. Her eyes were shining and she was still grinning. "Okay. I'll admit I'm impressed."

Quinn looked down her nose at her, and Rachel's eyes narrowed a bit in respect as she sized her up and shrugged. "Okay, a lot impressed. But I'm not worried. Bring it."

Quinn smirked mightily. "Oh I will." She folded her arms, looking confident as ever. "I'll even throw you a bone. Let's play poker tonight, because well, I actually don't know a lot about it, except what I've seen on TV. Scrabble? I'll let you study up a bit," she paused, "just to make it a little more fun for me and all."

Rachel grinned and parroted her speech back at her in a mocking voice. "Oh just to make it more fun for you. Pfft. We'll see, Fabray."

"That we will, Berry. Wouldn't care to place a wager on that would you?"

The two girls faced each other, both smirking and full of confidence. "What did you have in mind?"

* * *

**A/N just another shout out saying thanks for reading and reviewing! Especially you more anonymous types I can't thank individually.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up has already aired.  
**Rated:** R for language

**A/N: Well…still Unbeta'd. Sorry for all mistakes, feel free to point them out. Reviews would still be very much appreciated, as we all know authors live off of them, even part time authors like moi. And I finally had popcorn yesterday.**

**A/N 2: ****I'm tired. Blame this, as gf has... on getting my new toy. Er phone. Er productivity tool. Now, I can download runpee for Android. My life is almost complete. Anyhoo, I promise to fix all raving mistakes first thing in the morning when I can see them freshly. Sorry in advance? **

**But! longer chapter than usual this time. And kinda fluffy : ) *shrug* At least I think it is. I finally had to stop and post this, but am on my way with next one. Have a busy weekend planned, and make up Thanksgiving with family from being sick. So. Bring on the carb overload! Yay Liverpool is through the round of 32 for Uefa Cup. And sorry to any Russians or Qatar..ians? …but really? England shoulda got one of the World Cups. As for the fic, sorry again…really, there will eventually be poker played. I promise. In fact, I might have to play some this weekend to get in the right frame of mind to write it. **

**A/N 3 addendum. You know you're tired and you shouldn't release a chapter if you've spelled several things wrong and missed words in the author's note for crying at loud. I fixed a few things tonight, will do more in the morning. Too tired to get more done now. Sorry! Heck, this chapter may look completely different by noon tomorrow ;)  
**

"Hm, I don't know yet. I'll think of something. And that will give you a little time to reconsider. You know, in case you want to back out. From what I've seen of poker on TV, that would be what they call a 'good lay down' if I'm not mistaken."

Rachel cocked her eyebrow. "Wow. Not likely, but have it your way."

"Oh I will." She smiled knowingly. "Hm, I bet you'd wager that if I lose I have to sit through every Barbra Streisand movie and special ever made or something."

"Hmmm. That_ is_ a thought." Rachel braced her hand on her knee and got up and moved to another section of the book case. Quinn leaned back on her hands to follow her with her eyes. She watched as the other girl put out a hand and ran her fingers lightly over what looked like well over a dozen DVDS on the shelf.

"You mean all these?" She raised her eyebrows, all innocence, but then put on a wicked smile. Then waved her hand somewhat dismissively and grinned. "Oh I don't know, that sounds too predictable if you ask me."

Quinn chuckled. "Oh really?"

Rachel ran her hands back the other way lovingly across the DVD collection again. "Well, it would be akin to say…_you_ making a wager to get me out of my beloved argyle…" she trailed her words off. Quinn's eyes got wide as she processed the surely unintended double-entendre. Her mind flickered back to her dreams. She let loose a nervous giggle. _W__ell apparently according to my rat bastard subconscious, I can't say it hasn't crossed my mind._ She cursed the mental hiccough and hurried to recover her poise. _Okay, ixnay on the verbal vomit, Fabray_, she scolded herself. That would not do. She shook her head clear and raised her chin.

Rachel's eyed her curiously. She couldn't help but notice as she tilted her head and observed Quinn that she had appeared to squirm and almost cough before speaking again.

"While that would be a worthy quest, and I've no doubt the general public would hail me a hero… I have to agree; too predictable."

She spluttered dismissively. "Ha. Very funny." She waved her hands over her body. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm not wearing any argyle smart ass. I'm sure you can think of something else."

Quinn's brow furrowed, and her voice had already lost a small bit of the teasing tone she'd been using to taunt the brunette. Curiosity got the better of her. "You said argyle is…a tradition?"

Rachel felt her lips curve a little bit, somewhat surprised Quinn had remembered her offhand comment. "I did."

The blond emitted an exaggerated and exasperated sigh. "And…?"

"And, **you're** changing the subject," she said pointedly.

"I am not. If I were trying to 'get you out of your argyle' as you eloquently stated, shouldn't I at least be allowed to know know why you have such an affinity for it in the first place."

Rachel flushed a little bit. "It's a little embarrassing."

Quinn deadpanned. "Really. Like there is anything NOT embarrassing about argyle in general?"

"Ha, well with THAT attitude, I don't think you're in the proper frame of mind to hear it." The diva put her hands on her hips and pretended to be annoyed, but she laughed and stuck her tongue out with a 'pfft' noise.

Quinn noted that the easy banter between them apparently had Rachel relaxed and feeling full of mischief. Apparently it had filled _her_ full of unexpected mischief as well. So much so in fact that when Rachel stuck out her tongue at her just now, unbelievably, what leapt to her mind (uninvited), was one of Pucks racier 'pick up' lines. She had opened her mouth to let fly one of his standards, and just barely managed to cover her traitor mouth with her hand. She did it so quickly she was probably lucky she didn't bite her _own_ tongue. Her eyes went wide with shock at the comment on the tip of her tongue that very nearly went rampaging out into the universe.

She shook her head, wondering (not the first time in the past few days) what the hell was wrong with her? She really hoped Rachel had not seen her sitting there, gaping like a blowfish or something.

Unfortunately, the girl in question was still standing looking at her with an knowing look. She folded her arms and tilted her head to the side, clearly bemused.

"Let me guess. Something about being rude? Something about…that I shouldn't stick out my tongue unless I planned on using it?"

The blond's eyes bulged and she swallowed, laughing nervously. "Uh, how did you kn…"

Rachel stopped her, putting her hand up and chuckled. "Please. Puck? Like I haven't heard that before from him?" She tilted her head the other way now, looking up thoughtfully into apparently empty space to her left. "Though, I have to say, I've never had it said to me by a girl…" She stopped, as if she just now realized she was speaking out loud. "Well, you know Puck…" She scratched her left eyebrow first and then the end of her nose conspicuously, and turned back to the bookcase to look at the Barbra Streisand DVDs.

Quinn was still frozen, attempting to shake off her embarrassment. Why the hell was she channeling Puck? Santana, she could see channeling Puck. They were practically twins when it came to their attitudes in terms of sexual conquest. But Quinn was NOT known for it. What the hell? Taking a deep breath, she tried to get the conversation back on track. "That I do, I'm afraid." She mentally shook her head. _'That I do'. And that was all you could come up with, Fabray?_

Gathering her composure, or at least trying to, Quinn decided she needed to take charge and steer them back on track to what she hoped was safer ground for her. She looked back to the movies in front of her and grabbed the first movie she saw, which turned out to be _Return to Me_. "I like Minnie Driver. Oh. And well David Duchovny too. Except didn't he turn to be like a total perv?" She took another deep breath and continued talking, which was completely unlike her, and she knew it, yet she couldn't seem to stop herself. Maybe she'd been around Rachel too much already, and now she was doomed to ramble pointlessly. She had to shut herself up. "Anyway, So! Don't worry about Scrabble if you're scared. I understand if you're afraid of a little competition."

She was babbling and she knew it, and now she also felt the inescapable urge to move. Like right _now_. She placed her hands on the floor for a bit of balance, and then she instantly hopped lithely to her feet in one swift movement, startling the diva. She smirked, but just a little. Dignity somewhat retrieved, and some action taken, she a little pleased with herself.

Rachel had been about to make a snappy comeback, but it died on her lips after she watched Quinn's feat. "Wow. You really are some kind of a ninja…" She sounded impressed.

Quinn quirked her lips. "Well, not a ninja. But I _have_ been working on getting back into Cheerio fighting form. Thank Sue Sylvester for being such a taskmaster. She's not kidding about that whole 'how high' answer to her if she tells us to jump. Believe it."

Rachel allowed gaze to wander as she admitted her admiration."It shows. So thank you Sue Sylvester. Okay, there is one phrase I never thought I'd hear myself utter…" she trailed off awkwardly.

Quinn was flattered, and she almost went back to flushing. "Uh. Yeah. Thanks?" Clamping her teeth, she mentally scruffed herself. _This has __**got**__ to stop_.

She looked back towards the safety of the brightly lit kitchen area where Rachel's dads were. She jutted her jaw towards Rachel, and then nodded towards the kitchen.

"So, since we haven't decided on a movie to that will work to our mutual pleasure, how we just start with poker?"

Rachel paused and pursed her lips, and then pulled them to one side, then pulled them back to center mashing them between her teeth like she was trying very hard to repress a smile. She nodded her head mutely. "Sounds like a plan. Daddy will be delighted, I assure you." She let loose the smile and motioned for Quinn to head back to the kitchen. "I'm going to put these back in order," indicating the half dozen movies Quinn had pulled out. She paused, "and maybe…perhaps pull out a _few_ suggestions you can look at if we watch something later." She kept her voice light and smiled again.

Quinn nodded very enthusiastically, taking the opening. She was grateful to have a reason to head to the other room. She ducked her head and moved quickly. "I'll see if your dads need any help finishing up in there." She turned back and raised her eyebrows taking another opening that Rachel had left her; the familiar ground of poking fun at the smaller girl's well known organizational bent. "No Powerpoint presentations though, okay? That would practically be a movie itself."

Rachel rolled her eyes, taking the dig in stride. She made a dismissive gesture in Quinn's direction and called out to her dads in the kitchen. "Heeeeyyy! Apparently we say poker for now. Because, well, we can't decide on a movie to our mutual…that we both like."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Quinn pause as she neared wide arch to the kitchen area. She'd stopped half a second, balled her hand into a fist and very lightly made a hammer-like motion tapping the wall. She straightened up and continued her entrance.

She had not about to parrot the phrase 'mutual pleasure' out loud across the house to her fathers. She had no doubt it was a completely innocent comment to make. Still. She bent over to pick up the stack of movies and went about putting them back, while the wheels in her mind started turning in earnest.

* * *

Jonathan smiled at her when she re-entered. "So you girls couldn't agree on anything, nothing at all? You're in glee, and nothing in there appealed to you? No _Rent_, or Bette Midler? Or…" He trailed off. "

Curtis snorted. "Well, just because she is in glee doesn't mean she only likes to watch musicals all the time, does it? Rach does actually have broader tastes than that too you know. We only end up watching them if all else fails now." He looked at her and winked and continued.

"That is because we know them all by heart." Jonathan elaborated.

Quinn laughed at their wise-cracking banter.

"True. Still. Quinn, did you see the _Lord of the Rings_ Trilogy, or and the _Dune_ movies? The whole Merchant-Ivory shebang if you're in a stiff upper lip mood. Action? _Independence Day_… Maybe _The Godfather_ installments? Although those might require further commitment to trying Jonathan's experiments over the next month. May not be worth it." He grinned.

Jonathan exclaimed "Hey, you should all be so lucky!" He grabbed the drying towel on his shoulder and popped his husband in the butt with it. Curtis yelped and smiled again. "Not to mention you'd have to put up with us."

Quinn laughed as she explained. "Well tonight we thought it might be fun to play some poker. I've seen that Hold'em on TV. It wouldn't hurt to learn more, right?"

They both looked at her. "That's what we told Rachel. She was less than enthused…" Jonathan stated.

"Well, that is until we pointed out it would be beneficial for her acting skills to work on her bluffing skills. _Then_ she decided it might be prudent. Her word, not mine," Curtis explained further.

"Prudent," she repeated. Quinn nodded and pointed at the two of them. "Yes today she did mention you two wanted her to learn, something about strip poker…which sounded odd."

Jonathan laughed heartily. "Yes, it's true. Curtis and I both have memories of our college years. Uh, Frat boy shenanigans we witnessed quite a bit. Boys getting girls playing poker, and then it becomes strip poker…" Jonathan rolled his eyes and covered his ears. "Oy vey. I don't want to think about our girl in college."

Curtis shook his head. "We just want her to know how to play so she is prepared for situations like that. Kids are going to be kids, and boys are going to be boys. Heck, girls are going to girls, right? We want our little girl to enjoy herself and the college experience, but we want her to be as prepared as possible."

Quinn nodded. It made sense. "I think that is very proactive of you guys. I…" she stopped. She was about to say something completely shocking in its suddenness, but completely true. The two men looked at her, concerned.

She clasped her hands in front of her and nodded a few times before looking up. She took a deep breath, and they waited, sensing it was somehow important.

"I was going to say that I wish my own parents had been more like you. If they, or the school or, or society or somebody had prepared me better for…" she took a deep breath and stopped. She pondered what to say next, and how to say it.

"To use a metaphor, which if I'm not mistaken, are pretty important to Rachel?" She paused and looked them both in the eye, and they nodded, clearly completely baffled and wondering what she was getting at.

Quinn looked up for inspiration, gripping her hands tightly behind her back now. She wasn't entirely sure what they knew about her other than probably that she often been hateful to Rachel in the not too distant past. She assumed they knew she'd been pregnant. She had no idea if they knew how she'd used Rachel's current boyfriend to cover her one time transgression with Puck. But she decided it was time to put to bed some of that here and now.

"If my parents had been a bit more like you, if someone had prepared me better and taught me to… play poker shall we say? Rather than just pretending poker didn't exist? I don't think I would have ended up pregnant at 16. And I wouldn't have been so scared I felt I had to drag poor Finn into it all after I cheated on him with his best friend. He deserves someone like Rachel. He's a lucky guy."

There, she said it. She wanted to sit down, but she stood straight, with her head high, but her stomach was nauseous and it was suddenly extremely warm in the kitchen.

Both the men stood dumbly staring at the earnest teenager in front of them. Curtis took in a huge breath, while Jonathan's eyes were bright and shiny, and he kept looking up at the kitchen light and breathing through his nose.

She waited. It felt like forever the silence stretched on while she watched the two men. The doubts started creeping into her head. They didn't know about Finn. They didn't know she'd cheated. They had thought Quinn had just been someone who'd tormented Rachel and had finally supposedly grown out of it. She couldn't take back the word vomit now though. She bit her lip and finally dropped her gaze to the two men's feet and noticed Jonathan's foot was tapping. That couldn't be a good sign.

Curtis' feet moved forward so she looked up. He put his hand on her shoulder. The two men spoke simultaneously.

"Can I make you some more bacon?"

"Can I give you a hug?"

Her eyes went wide, and she was flooded with relief, and she burst into hysterical and puzzled giggles.

"So I just confessed to cheating on your daughter's boyfriend and for all intents and purposes lying about it keep him with me while I waited to give birth to his best friends baby. And you want to make me bacon and give me a hug?"

They looked at each other and nodded again, and now Curtis' eyes were shiny too. "That was brave of you Quinn. Rachel said you'd changed."

Quinn pulled her lip and bit it between her teeth, eyebrows raised in an incredulous peak. She shook her head and said simply. "Yes to both?"

Jonathan smiled and swooped in and gave her a quick tight hug, but didn't linger, not wanting to overwhelm the girl. He went to the fridge. "I'll even get the treif out of the fridge for you, but I'm afraid I can't bring myself to fry it up."

Curtis looked down at her and smiled, squeezed her shoulder and went to the fridge to grab the bacon.

Now she was breathing heavy, determined not to cry, a face splitting smile planted on her face. Then it occurred to she wasn't hungry. "Wait…uh Curtis, Jonathan. Can I take a rain check on the bacon? I'm actually pretty full."

They turned back to her. "Absolutely. Anytime. Well, okay, please not on the High Holidays though?"

She bit her lip and smiled clasping her hands again. "Of course not." She had no idea when or what exactly those were, but they sounded important.

Curtis shut the fridge and opened the cabinet near the coffee maker.

"Well, how about some hot chocolate then? And," he cleared his throat, "where is your cohort? Did you all make that big a mess in there?"

"Hot chocolate? You're on. As for Rachel I don't what is taking so long?"

They all jumped when there was a loud buzzing coming from catch all corner breakfast nook where it appeared to Quinn that keys and mail piled up. Rock music started blaring from it along with the continued buzzing.

Curtis groaned. "That thing has been dinging and sputtering occasionally for the last 20 minutes. Guessing now it was Finn. That is the dulcet sounds of his ringtone. Surprised she hasn't materialized right yet. She is usually Johnny on the spot when he calls."

Quinn half shut one of her eyes in mental anguish from the cacophony coming from the phone. She stepped towards it. "I'll take it to her." She scooped it up, holding it out in front of her as if she was carrying a dead thing and took it to the den. However, it went blessedly silent just as she left the kitchen and headed back to the den.

* * *

Wracking her brains, Rachel was certain there was some scientific (or psychic) phenomenon that would explain this. And by 'this', what she meant was the weird interplay going on with her and Quinn Fabray. She just needed to sort it, much like she was sorting the movies.

She ran her hand through her dark hair, twiddling the ends of her hair, not realizing she was smiling as she stood holding the copy of _The Princess Bride_. She didn't see that Quinn had pulled it out. She put it to the side as one of her 'picks' to offer up later. Maybe they did have 'mutual' interests?

Ever since Quinn had made her way to the kitchen and left her alone, Rachel had continued twiddling, letting her thoughts wind and unwind as well while she had a moment to let them wander for the first time in hours.

Pleased with herself, she came up with a comparison. It was like when she first found out last year that her dads were looking into getting her a good safe used car for her to have to drive around. Once the cat was out of the bag (they had tried to keep it a secret, fat chance), they let her give some input. Of course she'd wanted a Prius, but there were no used models anywhere, and it was just too expensive, even for the fairly comfortable Berry-Campbell budget. They'd gone through a couple of models during the process, checking the want ads, looking online etc. A few types of models were bandied about, but Accords and Protegés seemed to be the prime candidates. And now, she recalled distinctly that during each phase, she had suddenly 'seen' these cars _every_where. Everywhere she turned there were Protegés and Accords. Like they had multiplied like bunnies over the weekend as they discussed them. It's like she completely hadn't noticed them until it had been raised in her consciousness.

And that was exactly how she felt now. It had been a mere matter of hours since she'd been standing in Quinn's TV room, hearing her mumble something that _may_ have been something like 'Rachel, kiss me.' And now, suddenly it's seems like everything was pointing at it in loud neon Vegas Strip like signs. Her subconscious seemed to make everything Quinn said into some kind of double-entendre. And really? If what she had heard was what she thought she heard, she wondered if Quinn was having the same issue. Like everything Rachel did was some sort of flirtation or something. Looking at the pile of movies Quinn had pulled. _The Princess Bride, Before Sunrise, Four Weddings and a Funeral, Bring it On_ (okay, a cheer leading movie primarily, but still). They were all romantic comedies.

She shook her head fiercely and suddenly. Her dads always said she looked like horse trying to swat away a fly with its tail when she did that. But it worked well for enhancing the mental shake she was also giving herself, as she threw off the introspection and conjecture. Taking her wandering mind to task, she focused on the present, quickly putting the remaining movies away. She looked at the _The Princess Bride, _alone in it's 'pile', and added _Return to Me_, as she also liked Minnie Driver.

Better add to more to the pile though she thought. She quickly went to the Barbra section, grabbing _Funny Girl_ as her 'go to' movie. She then eyed _Juno_, but and thought better of it. Thinking quickly, she bent down to the animation section and grabbed the _Wallace and Gromit_ compilation there and tossed it on the pile. She smiled, satisfied.

Half a beat more she stood there, still unable to make herself head to the kitchen. No matter what she tried to tell herself, she knew she _**had**_ heard what she'd heard this afternoon.

Not that she had any idea what to do about it. Keeping things to herself was not one of her strong points, as she proved last year when she'd blurted Quinn's secret to Finn. True Quinn had been as relieved as she was mad. But that was beside the point. Keeping things under wraps was struggle for her. She rubbed her temples now, all the unorganized thoughts starting to make her head throb.

Heaving a big sigh, she concentrated as put the heel of her hand to her forehead and rubbed it in tight circles.

Quinn had occupied a series of neatly semi-discrete places in her head. Or she had. But she'd been forced to 're-file' her more times than anyone else she knew. She'd moved her from 'H' for Hellspawn (a designation she'd shared with Santana and Karofsky and Sue Sylvester) to 'J' for Jealous of Talent (occupied also at various times by Kurt, Mercedes and well let's face it, all of glee, not to mention Vocal Adrenaline).

Then after last year's events unfolded, she'd suddenly and dramatically been sub-filed under 'P' for Pregnant (all alone there of course). Babygate ran its course, and she'd been further additionally sub-filed Sympathetic (because she was all alone in 'P' for Pregnant). Now? She was what? Was she simply 'C' for Classmate? That didn't' quite fit because well, she was pretty certain she and Quinn were more to each other than say, Kenny Smithson, who also qualified, right? Right?

She sighed again, letting her head fall against the bookcase shelf. She knocked it lightly there again. Her head was now actually starting to feel physically tight, and she rubbed some more.

She'd hardly had the chance to decide if the newly restored Head Cheerleader could safely be filed into 'F' for Friend. Signs seemed to be favorable there, it was true.

But never, ever, _ever_, had it occurred to her that she could ever be in the 'R' for Romantic Interest/Lead folder that had been occupied at various times by Finn, Puck, Jesse and even Mr. Schue (she preferred to never contemplate that one if possible). It was _still_ occupied, she chastised herself, reminding herself of Finn. Finn her behemoth boyfriend.

_Behemoth would be a good word for Scrabble...hm. _She bumped her forehead on the shelf again with purpose. _Focus._

She mashed her lips together, biting down on them, forehead furrowing. It wasn't as if everyone in McKinley (herself included, albeit grudgingly) hadn't noticed that Quinn was pretty much absofrigginlutely gorgeous. By any standard. That was a fact.

And that was precisely why she decided to throw caution to the wind and risk Quinn's ire not to mention ridicule. She ended up asking her to tempt Finn with getting back together. Sure. It was childish. But she thought that if Finn could turn down Quinn in all her restored social and non-baby weighted glory, then it _must_ mean he really did want to be with Rachel. And it had proved true.

In retrospect, Quinn had only been mildly acidic in her contempt over that little plot. That was a little curious now that she thought about it. At the time, she was simply grateful, and was relieved the humiliation had been minimal, and limited to having to grovel to get her help in the first place. Well that and a mildly snide comment when it turned out to be 'successful'.

She contemplated her ex-rival, trying to be more objective than usual. The head cheerleader's demeanor was usually cold and impassive, and her vocal skills were nowhere near her own, but she did have a rather smoky hot quality to some of what she sang. And damned if her vocabulary skills weren't, well…superlative, and….

* * *

A sharp, short shock and a 'doink' to the side of her head shook her completely and utterly out of her file synchronization process flow."Ouch! What the hell" she exclaimed as she saw a colorful plastic poker chip drop next to her.

"Ah ah, language! Earth to Rachel…" she sing-songed. She was leaning comfortably against the arched doorway now, and she was dangling a cell phone between her thumb and forefinger. "I believe you just missed a phone call, perhaps there will be a voicemail. It just now stopped ringing…" The silence was broken again it buzzed twice, and then ACDC's _Thunderstruck_ once again started blaring from it. She looked annoyed and amused simultaneously, grimacing at the loudness of it.

She talked loudly over it. "Good thing I didn't toss this to you instead of the poker chip, eh? Here, take it! Please!" She walked towards her, still grimacing.

Rachel snapped out of her thoughts and paced towards her and grabbed the phone, apologizing "he asked for that ringtone…" Naturally, she received no reply except an eloquently arched eyebrow. She opened her phone.

"Hello?"

"Rachel? Where've you been? I've been texting you for the last hour?"

"I've been—" she glanced up at Quinn. The taller girl gave her a look she couldn't read. Then she raised her right eyebrow even with the arched left one, pivoted neatly and headed back into the kitchen. Rachel looked after her, already almost lost in thought again, until she heard Finn's tinny voice coming through the phone she'd let sag.

"Hello? Rach, hello?"

She looked back at the phone and pulled it back up to her head.

"Hi Finn. I thought we said we'd text before bed. Didn't we?"

"Oh. Yeah, I guess so. It's just. Well, we're out of food over here, so…"

"So?"

"Well, I thought you and your dads, I don't know, maybe you might have some lefto—"

"Really Finn? "

"Well, yeah…I mean, I was just checking. Kurt's…er, things were good, just you know. Tiny?"

She was a little exasperated with him now. "Finn, I'm sorry, but we ate already."

"Oh," he huffed. He sounded disappointed she thought. She had to admit, she hated when he was disappointed.

She squeezed her eyes shut, cradling the phone in one hand and suddenly rubbing her forehead with the other. She'd been doing that a lot lately she realized. It probably wasn't good for her skin. It probably caused wrinkles. A heavy sigh on the other end of the line brought her attention back to her Hoover Boy on the other end of the call. She could just picture his sad, awkward face at the moment. She could take a lot of things, but not the sad disappointed Finn. She could rescue this though she thought.

"I'm sorry, Finn, it's all finished. But well, if it is any consolation, I don't think you would have liked it. Dad made crépes."

Silence.

"Think of them as tiny little French pancakes with things rolled up inside them. Like those lettuce wraps Kurt made you guys. Only not."

"Oh…" She could picture him working that in out in his head. She waited patiently as she could for him to come to the conclusion that he wouldn't have cared for dinner anyway. 'French' and 'tiny' were going put him over the edge there. She waited, finally hearing his intake of breath.

"Ah. Wow, that is…wow. That is just…too bad I guess." Finn finally said. She nodded to herself like she was nodding to a little kid. He really needed to work on his acting skills, since he sounded like he felt certain he'd dodged a bullet. She could still practically hear his little wheels turning through the phone line. "Yeah, well, I guess I missed out, didn't I? Guess I will…grab a burger on the way home then. Too bad for me I guess."

Really it was endearing how dense he could be. Sometimes.

"Well Finn, maybe next time. I'll let you know when he makes them again and you can try them if you want." She smirked.

"Oh, great, thanks. I guess I'll get going. I think Sam was looking for Quinn, she's not, like, still there, is she?" Rachel paused. She wasn't sure if she wanted to answer that or not. She didn't like being a go between for anybody. If Quinn hadn't been answering her phone or her texts, that was her business, not Rachel's. And not Finn's either.

Decided on the issue, and feeling a little guilty, she spoke a little more loudly. "What? Finn? Speak up!"

Finn's puzzled voice came back to her. "Rachel? Are you there? I can hear you fine, can you hear me?"

She took a deep breath and spoke even more loudly. "ARE YOU DRIVING? You're BREAKING UP! You're breaking UP! Are you in a TUNNEL?"

Embarrassed to do it, she nonetheless pressed ahead and made blowing and cracking sounds in the phone.

Someone appeared in her peripheral vision again. Too short for daddy, too slender for dad. _Well that is just stellar._

"RACHEL! CAN YOU HEAR ME?" Finn was yelling into her ear now, and she winced, and she held it away from her ear, pretending she hadn't noticed Quinn standing in the doorway again "Hm. Oh well, if you can hear me, I'll talk to you tomorrow." She listened hopefully, and he finally grumbled back to her. "Dammit. Stupid phone. If you can hear me, I'm hanging up now. I will text you later."

Releasing the breath she'd been holding, she closed the phone and turned towards the kitchen. She was now absolutely certain of what she'd see; Quinn's gaze leveled at her, perfectly shaped eyebrow arched and locked into place.

She was not disappointed.

**A/N Okay. Might could ignore dogs and gf and write more for reviews. Oops, I forgot she is reading this now. J/K sweetie! Sorta. She put up with me this evening….d'oh!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up has already aired.  
**Rated:** R for language

**A/N: Well…still Unbeta'd. I still love popcorn. Thanks everyone for the reviews and comments. They make me feel warm and fuzzy.**

**A/N 2: Finally there is some poker. Sorry this took so long! You know, it's a lot more fun playing poker than DESCRIBING poker. Well, at least poker with parents. *g* And this chapter, well, in the immortal words of that little girl in _Despicable Me_ "It's so _fluffy!" _So, up next, maybe less fluff, but more faberry I think.  
**

**Thanks again for your reviews and reading and comments. If anyone has any suggestions or requests feel free. Gf has a habit of challenging me to insert certain ridiculous words sometimes, which usually entertains me. One time it was the word 'pantaloons'. Anyway, hope you enjoy. I hope to pick up the pace a bit after this chapter.  
**

##################

* * *

And indeed, when Rachel ended her call with Finn, she looked up to find herself facing the infamous 'Eyebrow', as she had mentally dubbed it.

Quinn stood with one ankle crossed over the other, her shoulder braced against the doorway and her arms casually crossed. Her look was unreadable. Which wasn't to say there wasn't expression to be read there. It was just that Rachel didn't think she had the proper translator yet. Was she smirking? Was she puzzled? Amused? Pleased? Disapproving? Indifferent? She couldn't tell.

She glanced furtively at the tall girl and shoved her phone into her pocket as she adjusted the loose pony tail she was wearing, and tucked the stray coil she'd been twiddling back behind her ear. She only just resisted the urge to twiddle it some more. Feigned nonchalance was something she was still working on as far as acting skills went.

Quinn still hadn't moved, so she finally hazarded a second glance. The slight pull to one side of her mouth was curled in amusement rather disdain she thought. Yes, there was definitely some smirking going on. Rachel took a deep breath, let it out and shrugged her shoulders innocently. She started to speak only to be interrupted by a chuckle from the other girl.

"Bad connections. I find it's been a problem for me lately too" Quinn stated with amusement.

Rachel's face crinkled up with worry, and she looked back, guilt evident on her face. By way of explanation, she commenced to rambling old school Berry-style. "He just wanted some food. I guess all the boys over there ate all of Kurt's lettuce wraps, except that Finn didn't get that many, and well, you know Finn. I guess the hordes were still hungry, and then, well then he started fishing for intel on where you—"

She took a breath and clamped her mouth shut to curb the flow of inanity. Collecting herself somewhat she continued. "It seems Sam was asking about your whereabouts, and Finn was passing that along, and well? Well, I didn't think it was my place, or Finn's for that matter —"

The blond nodded and put her hand up to stem the flow. "Yeah, I just noticed how much Sam has been texting me. I suppose I should have been better about texting him back." She shrugged uncomfortably. "Anyway, I just didn't want to be rude during dinner, and then we were in here and I just…kinda forgot afterward."

The diva nodded smiled her most charming smile at that. "I can assure you that my dads appreciate that. They hate texting at dinner, believe me."

Quinn smiled, and scratched her eyebrow. "I'm glad I erred on the side of well-behaved caution then. I just opted to it on silent, which is hardly as imaginative as…"

"Faking a bad connection? Gah. Am I awful? I am, aren't I?" Rachel groaned and put the heels of her hands to her forehead, looking plaintive and pitiful. She took in a big breath and held it.

The cheerleader wrinkled her nose up, and hazel eyes looked to the ceiling again, trying to keep her wry smile under wraps. "Not for me to say, but," she looked at her intently, brow cocked as high as ever, "_my_ experience with Rachel Berry and lying?"

Dark eyes cut to the cheerleader, and there was an audible exhale from her.

The blond cocked her head. "Well, let's just say it left me with the distinct impression that it does not usually sit too well with her. Especially if it involves someone she cares about."

Feeling slightly better although she wasn't sure why, Rachel quirked a watery little smile as she listened.

"So, personally _I_ think you got out of that as gracefully as possible without actually lying to anybody. And hey! Finn is capable of feeding himself, right? Not to mention I think you're right about Finn and crepes. Nice one throwing in 'French' thing. " She shook her head and smiled before continuing. "And finally, Brava on the acting job there, super star"

The rueful look the brunette gave her made her want to chuckle. "Finn is just…" she stopped and trailed off.

Quinn pushed gracefully away from the wall and straightened up to her full height. She wanted to say any number of things, all of which were to the effect that Finn is well-meaning, but dumb as a box of rocks. But she didn't. "Yes he is. Besides being a hormonal teenage bottomless pit of a boy, Finn is," she reached for a non-biting way to say what she was thinking, "uncomplicated, shall we say?"

Rachel eyed her wordlessly as she nodded and contemplated just how 'complicated' Quinn apparently could be. There was a lot going on behind those incredibly observant hazel eyes. She grinned as the tail end of Quinn's previous little speech had just dawned on her, and she smiled. "And really? You thought my acting was good?"

Quinn shook her head and grinned back making an exasperated sound, amused and surprised it had taken the diva so long to parse the compliment on her acting skills.

"Oh, without a doubt. I may not be worried about Scrabble, but I have to admit your acting skills have me concerned when it comes to poker. I've got my eye on you."

She crooked her finger for Rachel to follow her as backed away towards the kitchen.

And then, as naturally as if she did it all the time, she winked. Then she turned in a flash and headed into the kitchen.

Behind her, Rachel blinked once and then blinked again. Another second passed before she tilted her head and put one foot in front of the other and followed her into kitchen. Okay. Quinn Fabray had just winked at her.

##############

* * *

The radiating warmth from the kitchen flushed over her as she entered. Truthfully, she wasn't sure if it was residual heat from the cooking, or that she was flushing from the little realization that she had just inexplicably _winked_ at Rachel Berry. Not that she'd never winked at anyone before. Of course she had. When she _flirted_ with them. Shit. She fought the urge to physically smack herself in the forehead, but lost, and had to be settle for being thankful that neither Jonathan nor Curtis were looking when she came in.

The hair on the back of her neck prickled despite the warmth when she sensed Rachel behind her, so she shook her head to clear it, focusing on trying to figure out what exactly the men were doing. Fortunately they were very distracting, not to mention entertaining.

Jonathan and Curtis were standing next to each other and both of them were looking down at Jonathan's shuffling feet.

"No, if you cross them that way, you're going to trip again. Like this. Right foot, left, pivot, pivot, swing the hips, shuffle, shuffle, back, back, knee up, woo hoo—"

Curtis demonstrated while his husband watched and nodded encouragingly. Quinn wanted to giggle, but didn't want to seem rude.

"Daddy, again? When will you learn?"

"What? It's not like we're doing the 'Macarena' here." She shifted his hips and tried the pivot again. There was slight improvement.

Quinn dared to look over her shoulder at Rachel, and realized she was actually blocking her way. Moving to make room in the entryway, she raised her eyebrows in question. "What exactly is it that they are doing again?" She didn't quite whisper, but she lowered her voice.

"Argh," she groaned loudly. "That? That is Dad still working on his 'Pip' moves."

Quinn's face lit up as she watched Jonathan. "As in Gladys Knight and the—?"

"Yup." Rachel's face looked long suffering. Curtis' looked patient.

"Well, at least he's got good taste," Quinn beamed.

"You're a fan, Quinn?" Jonathan didn't look when he asked the question.

"Well I do like my Motown. And you can't argue with Gladys."

One corner of Curtis' mouth tugged upwards and he nodded, clearly amused. His attention was pulled away before he could add anything. Jonathan was still moving around as he piped up. "And her Pips, don't forget the Pips!"

Curtis and Quinn agreed simultaneously. "Of course not, you can't forget the Pips!"

"Hey guys! Look at me go—" Jonathan smiled and shifted his hands and snapped his fingers as he rocked back and forth, and then turned and rocked the opposite way, accidentally bumping into Curtis, who almost lost his balance. Laughing, he moved out of the way. His eyes narrowed, and then he wagged his eyebrows devilishly.

"Okay Gladys, let's see how you belt it out then." Quinn looked puzzled as he moved aside and stretched to the counter for the tall container that contained the larger cooking implements. He grabbed a wooden stirring spoon. "Think fast!"

It was all the warning Quinn got before she found the spoon lobbed at her. An absurd scene from _Bring it On_ leapt to her mind. Sure it wasn't a 'Spirit Stick' but she wasn't going to let it drop either. Instinctively she grabbed for her it. Jonathan meanwhile picked up the remote to the small sound system and hit a few buttons and the beginning drum beat and horns of _Midnight Train to Georgia_ started up.

Now she understood. "Oh no, no, really I can't sing." She shook her head. "Not like Rachel can." She tried to hand the spoon to the other girl.

But Rachel was backing away amused and annoyed at the same time. "Uh uh. They know I don't sing this song. It's about a failed singing career. Please." She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back into the counter tops.

Curtis rolled his eyes. "Well yes, but it's about _love_ too sweetie. But yes" he directed his words to Quinn now "Rachel has the absurd idea it would be bad juju or something." Jonathan chimed in still without looking up from his feet as he concentrated. "It's all you Quinn. And Rachel, you can at least be a Pip can't you? Don't be a party pooper."

Rachel sighed and got in line with them, resigned as she started moving in time with the music.

"Fine…if Quinn sings, I suppose I can be a Pip."

Like a deer caught in headlights, Quinn stood dumbly with the 'microphone'.

Rachel put her hands out to the side shaking her head. "I'm doing my part here, aren't I? I believe this is in your wheelhouse Quinn.

She sighed, and smiled nervously. "Uh…" She was about to miss the opening. She took a deep breath, feeling more than a little ridiculous.

_'Mmmm, L.A. proved too much for the man…'_

She knew the song by heart of course, since it was one of her easy morning wake up songs. In fact, Gladys had interrupted her dreams the other morning. Well saved her really, from the dream about Rachel Berry.

The same Rachel Berry who was now standing in a conga-line like formation with her two gay dads while they sang backup for her. This was beyond bizarre she decided. Maybe she was having a lucid dream. She glanced down to make sure she wasn't buck ass naked because that is just the kind of thing that tells you are dreaming. But no. She was fully clothed, but she still felt like things were moving in slow motion.

_He kept dreamin'  
Oooh, that someday he'd be a star.  
But he sure found out the hard way  
That dreams don't always come true._

"_Dreams don't always come true, no no, uh uh_" the trio sang. She smiled and just decided to enjoy it. Rachel smiled and rolled her eyes at her and then looked at her dads affectionately as she raised her arms along with them and sang 'woo hoo' in time with them.

By the time the song faded away, there were a few bruised hips. Rachel stayed out of the way, but Jonathan collided with the kitchen island at least once, and Curtis had clanked his head on a copper pot hanging from a baker's rack. Rachel and Quinn were unscathed, and red faced from either laughing or trying not to laugh.

Quinn cheeks hurt from smiling, and she was terribly thirsty. Rachel was already at the cupboard grabbing a glass, she held it up to Quinn and pointed at it. Quinn nodded and smiled before speaking. Rachel filled her glass with water and handed it to her.

"Phew. Okay, note to self. Not only does Rachel Berry like to sing standards from Musicals, but apparently her family life _is_ a musical. Or some TV show or something. Where people just…burst into song."

Rachel snickered. Her dads smiled unabashedly. Jonathan leaned on the counter top. "Hm, as long as you're not comparing us to the Brady Bunch, we're good. Or, well, Cop Rock."

"Oh you should be here for _Wicked_ night, Quinn. Rachel still belts out _Defying Gravity_ for us every now and again." Curtis grabbed a glass for himself and a wine glass for Jonathan and smiled over his shoulder.

Rachel made long suffering noises. "Daddy, I haven't done that lately, now have I?"

"Curtis, I do believe we're embarrassing Rachel in front of her friend" Jonathan chuckled.

Quinn raised her hands up smiling hugely. "No, no. This is great. Really! It just…explains a few things." She grinned over at Rachel who shrugged, and smiled self-consciously.

Now her host clasped her hands together and looked up at the ceiling in a classically dramatic 'give me strength' pose. "Weren't we going to play poker?"

"Yes yes, I'll get the cards. Go ahead and divvy up the chips. Unless, of course, anyone is up for a rendition of _I Heard it Through the Grapevine_ that is—"

"I think we'll pass dad." Jonathan put on an exaggerated disappointed face. "Well, you all are just going to miss out on all my smooth moves."

"It's a chance we're willing to take. How about some Michael Bublé for some Rat Pack ambiance while we take all of Quinn's money?" Curtis rubbed his hands together and walked to the now clear kitchen table. He turned his chair around and put one leg and sat astride it, resting his hands on the back of the chair.

Rachel and Jonathan both intoned "Show off" as Jonathan sat down opposite him, and Rachel took the seat to the right Curtis. Quinn grabbed four coasters on the edge of the breakfast bar and placed them around the table.

"Why thank you Quinn. I forgot those. Grandmother Elinor would thank you as well."

Rachel looked up from making her equal stacks of chips at Quinn who was watching her. "This was her table."

"Well it is lovely. Sorry. It's been drilled into me. The coasters that is."

Jonathan's smile was warm as he ran his hands over the smooth, but imperfect finish on the solid table. "Why thank you Quinn. It is, isn't it? It's hardly perfect now, so sometimes we slack on taking care of it. Still, we should. It is well-loved and well-worn but if we want it to last, we should remember to take better care of it."

Rachel handed out the stacks of multi-colored chips, sliding each neat stack carefully. Curtis was shuffling like a pro and passed the cards to Quinn to cut the deck. "Here you go, keep me honest." She cut the deck and passed it back, and Jonathan pitched his voice low. "Shuffle up and deal!"

"Okay, so I get two cards, right?"

Curtis nodded. "Yes, we each will be dealt two cards. I'm the dealer this hand. There are automatic bets in Texas Hold'em called the blinds. I am the dealer this hand, so I am automatically for the amount of the 'small blind', in this case, a five dollar chip. You are to my left, so you are the 'big blind' which at the moment is ten dollars. Jonathan will get us started by deciding to call the full amount of ten dollars, raise it, or fold it. Then it will be up to Rachel to call the big blind, or whatever Jonathan bets, or fold her hand, or even raise the stakes. Then I will have the same options. Fold, call the ten dollars, or whatever Rachel raises the stakes to. Finally, it will come back to you, and will be the last to act before the first three cards are shown to us all." Quinn was nodding. "That would be 'the flop', right?"

Curtis nodded. "Ah, I see you are not a complete beginner."

"Well, I've seen it on TV and all, so I have an idea of how to play."

"Duly noted," he nodded. "No taking it easy on you then!" He dramatically bent down and peeked at his two cards before grinning. "So Rach? What's it gonna be? Feelin' lucky?"

Rachel picked up her cards, and returned his grin with an over the top evil laugh and smirk. She reached out and grabbed two chips and equaled the bet of ten.

Quinn looked down at her cards. She had a Ten of diamonds and a King of diamonds. It did not seem like a spectacular hand, so while she was disappointed, she tried not to let it show. She sat up straight and put a smirk on her face.

Curtis eyed his own cards and started whistling. "That's a mighty big grin you've got there Rachel for making just limping in on the bet."

She shrugged. "Just trying to be nice to the company."

"Hmph. I see. Well, we are not about mercy here at the Berry-Campbell abode. At least not when it comes to poker. So, Quinn, I'm going to see the big blind of ten, and raise it to twenty. It'll be fifteen to you to call."

"Well, in for a penny, in for a pound I suppose." She counted out the three chips and placed them in the center.

Jonathan looked mournful. "I fold. Pfft."

Curtis took one card off the top, stopping to explain. "You 'burn' the first card and put it to the side each time you turn over cards. So, I burn one card and the next three are the 'flop.'" He demonstrated and spread the three cards out. "Hm, interesting. Flop comes Ace of diamonds, Queen of Spades, Ten of Spades." He made a show of dramatically checking his cards again.

Rachel looked over nonchalantly at her, running her hands over the table again. "The bet is to you Quinn. You may 'check' which is to say not raise the bet, or increase the bet. Technically you can also fold, but never fold unless someone else bets first. Rookie move."

"And one you used to make all the time, kiddo."

"Well, if I know I have garbage right away, it just seemed right to go ahead and fold," she sniffed defensively.

"Ah, but the point is for you convince us you don't HAVE garbage."

Rachel heaved a sigh. "Yeah, yeah. Just play your cards there Sparky." Actually she was pretty pleased with the flop as she now could claim a pair of Aces and a pair of Queens. Not bad.

Quinn was less impressed with the flop, at least as she understood poker. But she also knew there were two more cards to come. "I'll…check?"

Rachel's lip curved a little. She decided to do the old 'check/raise' ruse, and went ahead and checked as well, planning to raise it next round. Pleased with her plan, she nodded. "I'll check as well. You're up daddy."

"Hm. What to do, what to do." He rubbed his chin. "In honor of our guest, and the impending holiday season, I believe, yes, I shall check as well. Let's see what the 'turn' is, shall we?" He pulled the top card off and put it aside, then turned over the next card.

"Ten of clubs. We have a pair on the table now. Interesting. Anyone got another ten for three of a kind, or even four?"

Jonathan tapped his fingers on the table. Quinn noticed. She guessed he must have had a ten, as he looked slightly frustrated. Clearly Rachel didn't get his acting skills from him. Rachel meanwhile, was giving nothing away. Curtis was making various positive noises, but she suspected he was inclined to do that anyway, and was just messing with them all.

She furrowed her brow, and Curtis noticed. "Oh, hey, if you're not sure of the hierarchy of hands, we have a cheat sheet, don't we?" He nodded to his husband.

Jonathan hopped up and went to bookcase and pulled out small card putting it on the table and sliding it to Quinn. "Here you go. I think **_I_** still need it sometimes."

Quinn took it gratefully. She didn't think she had much of a hand, but she wanted to see the possibilities. She scanned down the card. It looked like her best bet was a flush. Not sure what to bet, but not just wanting to check again, she played with her chips like she'd seen on TV. She chinked her chips together and raised it.

"Hm, our shy retiring well-mannered guest seems to have evaporated before our very eyes. Apparently it is now twenty to you Rach."

The brunette was biting her lip now. "I see that. Feeling lucky, are we Quinn?" She looked up over her cards and raised an eyebrow. She was feeling pretty confident her trap had worked.

"You'll have to assume I am, won't you?" Quinn smiled overly sweetly.

"Hm. Okay. Have it your way." She put her chips in the center. "You're up daddy."

He was sliding his cards back and forth, and eying Quinn with exaggerated intensity. "Hm. I think I'll let this one go. Apparently it is up to you to keep Quinn honest oh daughter mine." He slid his cards in, as Quinn struggled to keep her face a mask of indifference, as she watched Curtis pull another card off the top of the deck and set it aside before he reached for the next card. He paused and looked at Rachel and then Quinn. "Hm, anything in particular you were hoping for?"

Quinn shrugged, "it's all the same to me."

Jonathan laughed. "Wow. She is tough nut to crack, maybe tougher than Rachel!"

"Daddy, just turn over the card!"

"Patience is a virtue."

"Bah."

"Okay, and the river comes," he trailed off as he turned the card over, "hm, an exciting Three of Diamonds?"

Quinn twitched her eyebrow instinctively, hoping no one noticed. She didn't think Rachel had.

"Well, bet is to you Rach."

"Well, well." She started toying with her chips. "If you wanna see my cards, you're going to have to pay. I'll raise it to one twenty."

"Ooh, big money, big money" laughed Jonathan. Rachel snorted at him.

Quinn then grinned and counted it out. "Well, I have to know what you've got of course. So. Done. Now. Whatcha got? As they say, curiosity killed the cat." She pushed the chips in.

Rachel turned over her cards, arching her eyebrow as she bragged. "And satisfaction brought him back? Try two pair, Aces and Queens with a Ten kicker. Beat that."

Quinn allowed her face to look disappointed for a second as she turned over one of her cards. "Hm. Ten of Diamonds here." She flipped over one of her cards. "So that's one pair I guess."

Rachel put on her best sympathetic look and then laughed. "Well close, but not cigar."

"Oh, hang on, but if I have this King here. Oh, and look at that. It's a Diamond too. Aren't they a girl's best friend or something?"

Jonathan and Curtis howled as Quinn sat quietly and innocently. "What? Is five of the same suit a good thing?"

Rachel let her head drop back dramatically. "Argh. A flush? Really? Beginners luck!"

"Perhaps" Quinn offered sweetly as she raked all the chips in the center towards her and carefully started stacking them.

########################

An hour later, Quinn's luck had remained, and she had the majority of the chips. Curtis was the short stack, trying to clamber his way back in. Jonathan was watching, bemused. He glanced at the clock behind him.

"Alright guys, it's after nine. If you want to try to get a movie in, we'd best wind this down."

Rachel and Curtis looked aghast. Curtis complained. "But…but, I'm on the verge of a comeback."

"Uh, no you're not. You've got what looks to be about a hundred and fifty in chips there, hon. And Rachel looks about twice that. I know I've got seven hundred and thirty five here. So I'm estimating that Quinn has upwards of three thousand. I don't think there is any comeback in the offing this evening."

"Oh fine. But I reserve the right for a rematch."

"Anytime, anywhere 'Sparky'." Quinn smirked.

"Loser has to clean up." Jonathan eyed Curtis, who grumbled. "Fine."

"You girls go pick your final choice for a movie."

Rachel placed her palms on the table dramatically and got up. "Your choice Quinn. After all, you were winning when we finished."

Quinn nodded and got up as well and headed back to the den where she quickly scooped up the stack of movies Rachel had culled earlier into the living room. Rachel was still huffing a bit about losing as she looked through them.

"Boy did I have crappy cards. "

She tilted her head and put on a confused look. "Really? But I thought the point of the exercise was to work on your acting skills, which were supposed to help you bluff and overcome the fact that you _**may**_ have had crappy cards?" Quinn couldn't help but poke some fun at her.

"Yeah, yeah. Well, I have to say you did pretty well. I didn't think you really knew how to play."

"I've seen it a little. And, I have to say, on behalf of your fathers, please, please _please _keep practicing. If we were at college and this was the strip poker they feared, I'd have you practically naked by now—" She swallowed and flushed. "That came out funny."

Rachel was bemused. "No doubt." She looked down at her clothes. "Good thing then."

Quinn cleared her throat and looked through the films. "What is this Wallace and Gromit?"

"Ooh, they are excellent! British stop animation? _Curse of the Were Rabbit_? Kind of like _Chicken Run_?"

"Oh, right. Okay." She kept looking down as Rachel watched her shuffle through same half dozen movies distractedly.

"Oh, and Quinn, I'm assuming its okay for you to be out this late? I know you left your mom a note, but I wasn't sure. If we watch anything other than _Wallace and Gromit,_ it could be a couple of hours. So, yeah. I can drive you home later." She shrugged and added as casually as possible, "or, well, if it gets too late, you're also welcome to spend the night. There is plenty of room."

Quinn looked at her, and Rachel just smiled. "Just an option." Quinn nodded, thoughtful but unsure if it was a good idea or not. She decided staying non-committal for the moment was best.

"Well, I hate to have you out driving late. But I didn't bring anything to sleep in. So, let me call my mom and check in with her and let her know where I am. We'll see how late it gets."

She picked up her phone that she'd had on silent for since dinner. There were two more messages and two missed phone calls. She sighed. She thought of Rachel's earlier conversation with Finn and shook her head at the two messages from Sam. At least he probably wasn't texting her because he was hungry.

"Finn really _is_ a bottomless pit, isn't he?" A dramatic noise of agreement from Rachel made her smile inwardly.

################

* * *

**A/N Thanks so, again for reading and reviewing. I love getting comments and reviews, so thanks! If properly encouraged, the weather would seem conducive to some more writing this afternoon. After all, my team got it's collective butt handed to them yesterday by Newcastle. Gah. I'm depressed.  
**

**Also, yes, I really do like Gladys Knight. I dragged gf to a Pip-less concert of hers once, where she was awesome. And gf makes a great Pip when we sing in the car.  
**


	18. Chapter 18

_**AN/1: Uh, I removed this chapter accidentally when adding 19, sorry! Sorry it's been so long between updates. Blah blah. I totaled (probably) my car while returning from another city for work before the holidays. With all three dogs in the car. But we and (and others) are all (thankfully!) okay. The sorry sad, O'Henry moment of it all (reiterating that all three dogs, myself and other car people are fine) is that gf bought me an apparently difficult to find Liverpool car accessory for Christmas. And now I have no car. Cue the violins. : ) Again, very grateful everyone fine. And I love my Liverpool car accessory!  
**_

_**AN/2 Argh. So, I basically spent this chapter trying to write myself back into my own story headspace, if that makes sense. So this is a wee (ok more than wee) bit all all over the place. And if I was more disciplined I would toss this and write what comes next, but this felt necessary And well, I'm sitting on my floor while two dogs took my place on the couch, a cat is on my lap, with a beer (me, not the cat, the cat is a teetotaler), and Coyote Ugly is on TV? Do I sound disciplined to you? No…not so much. :) **_

_**AN/3Also! Thanks so much for reviews and adds and favorites, they certainly perk me up. I apologize for the brevity, but I had to (re)start somewhere. : ) Happy and safe 2011 to all.**_

_**#########################**_

_**

* * *

**_

**6:05 Sam:** Having fun I hope? Getting work done?

**7:35 Sam:** Okay then. So are we still on for tomorrow?

One missed call from Sam, and one from her Mercedes. She was surprised about the missed calls, as she expected she would hear the vibrating sound. Apparently they'd been it was louder than she thought in the kitchen. Well, what with the singing and the poker, she guessed maybe she shouldn't be surprised after all.

And now she felt guilty. She was having a good time. And while it would be an exaggeration to say she'd been avoiding Sam, she hadn't exactly been thinking about him either. And she needed to call her mom anyway. Which brought her right back to the present. Considering all the mess swirling around in her subconscious lately, she wasn't sure spending the night was all that intelligent an idea.

She called her voice mail, hearing that Mercedes wanted to know if she wanted to come over for Sunday roast after Church. It was something she did off and on. Sam was 'just checking in' to see (again) if they were still on for maybe a movie and dinner. She inhaled as she pondered both the invites. She wasn't sure if she was in the mood for either at the moment.

Mercedes was easy enough so she started there.

**Quinn:** Hey lady. I'm not sure about tomorrow yet. I may need to study some more.

Now for Sam.

**Quinn:** Hi sorry, phone switched to silent accident. Re: tomorrow, not sure? May need to study more : ( Talk to you tomorrow.

Once she fired off her explanation and floated possible excuses, she dialed her mom. She picked up after a few rings. Quinn could hear some big band type music in the background and some piano.

"Quinn, is everything okay?"

She allowed herself a small smile at the hint of worry in her mom's voice. Another small thing that had changed since she'd mostly moved back home. Even though Judy was careful to respect Quinn's independence, she still worried, in a motherly way now, and not just in a 'what would the neighbors think' way. It was nice she admitted.

"Yeah mom. Just letting you know I might spend the night at my friend Rachel's house. I'm not sure yet. We had dinner and now we might watch a movie."

The music flared in the background, and there was a pause. "Sorry dear, it's a bit loud here. So. Okay, but, well, is your car okay?

"Oh it's fine. Rachel just drove me, and I hate for her to have to go back out again after the movie."

Well, I guess that is very responsible of you. As long as you're not out with …"

She cut in on her mom. "Mom. I'm not secretly at Santana's house. Or Sam's, okay? If you'd like to talk to Mr. Berry, I can arrange that?"

She left off the fact that there were two Mr. Berry's that she could technically talk to. It was none of her business. And although her mom had come a long way to dropping many of her holier than thou attitudes, she wasn't in the mood to see how far her new attitude extended this evening.

Another pause and a music flare. "No honey, that's okay."

"It sounds like you're having a good time mom. I'm glad. I've got to go, they're holding the movie, okay? I'll call you to let you know if I do come home, so you'll know if I'm on the road, okay?"

"Okay dear. I really need to learn how to use that text thingie, don't I?"

The blond shook her head vehemently in reflex at the horror of that thought, glad her mother couldn't see her. "Uh, sure mom. But I much prefer just talking. Anyway, they are holding up the movie, I should get back."

"Okay Quinn, please be safe. How long has this Rachel had her license?"

"Mom, she's an excellent driver," she replied with a little smile to herself. "Go enjoy your evening. I'm fine, I'm having a very nice and safe time." She smiled. It was true. If it weren't for that fact that Rachel had two gay and one Jewish dad, this evening was everything even her dad would have wanted. She sighed. Just the thought of her dad was enough to sour her mood, so she turned her thoughts deftly away from him.

Sam's answering text had come while she was on the phone.

**Sam:** Okay… Cool beans I guess. I have gym and homework too. _Plltxe tray._

She groaned and ground the heel of her hand into her forehead. She really hated it when he 'spoke' Na'vi. She hated it even more when he texted in it. The first time he'd texted her with the nonsense words, he thought he'd just fat fingered something. Such a sweet guy, but such a dork sometimes. He'd even had the misguided notion of attempting to teach her some of the more common phrases. The old Quinn would have laughed and had something withering to say about it. And even new and improving Quinn had laughed her ass off at the notion.

She texted precisely back to him.

**Quinn:** I'm going to assume you didn't insult me. Talk to you tomorrow. : )

**Sam:** I would never. You'd beat my ass. _Pom pom._ :)

It _**really**_ irritated her when he used the 'pom pom' phrase, especially out loud. Apparently, 'pom' translated to 'kiss' in Na'vi, and Sam just found it endlessly entertaining to say 'pom pom' to his Head Cheerio girlfriend.

Finally, in desperation, she'd Googled for one phrase. Who knew there were sites dedicated to learning made up languages? _Fnu_. It meant 'be quiet'. It was of course far less satisfying and more polite than saying 'shut it' (for which, sadly there was no translation she could find, and after all there was only so much time she was willing to waste looking up made up languages on the internet). Naturally, she had no idea how to pronounce it, but it did at least have the added bonus of feeling like a swear word as she punched in the keys.

**Quinn:** This is true. I would. Now _fnu_. Later.

Snapping her phone shut, she once again wondered at her apparently sketchy taste in boys. And Sam was the smartest one she'd dated so far. She shook her head and turned back to the living room.

Rachel was still sifting through movies and looked up when she entered and smiled,.

"Everything okay? You said your mom was out for dinner, right?

"Yeah, it's kinda monthly I'd say. I mean money is—" She cut herself off, wondering what she was thinking telling Rachel personal things. When did she just start over-sharing with anyone, much less Rachel?

"Tight. Of course." Rachel offered, as she set the movies down and crossed her arms and looked at her shoes before she peered at the blond intently. "Of course I'm not privy to what exactly your father's status is and how things are, but I can imagine things must have…changed."

"Yeah. That is an understatement." Quinn chuffed and nodded, not going into details about it. But she heard elaboration tumbling out of her before she could stop herself. "But I wouldn't change it. Things are—" she trailed off again.

Rachel didn't speak, she just waited patiently, sincere eyes focused on her, while Quinn took a breath and considered her words before giving a measured response. "Well, no sense sugar coating it. Did enough of that already last year. So yeah, as of now, cheerleading and grades are pretty much my only ticket for college now." She raised her shoulders in a quick shrug, and the brunette watched quietly as her stomach tightened in sympathy. Quinn continued matter-of-factly, as she tucked stray hair behind her ears. "But you know? So what? I'm not the first and I certainly won't be the last kid who doesn't have college handed to them on a silver platter, right?"

"That is true. But Quinn, I know you can do it." She put emphasis on the words 'know' and 'you.' Quinn smiled shyly at the avid vote of confidence. It was good to hear. Quinn nodded, and swallowed around a lump that had appeared in her throat. No matter how much she was glad her dad, and his judgmental control issues, were gone, he was still her dad. And even after everything with the baby last year, and all his disapproval, she hadn't rid herself of the habit yearning for his approval.

"And hey, I don't have to deal with my dad any more. No more lectures, right? No more Inquisitions."

Rachel smiled broadly, which seemed weird. She narrowed her eyes. "What?"

"Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition."

The quizzical, curious look Quinn was sporting pleased Rachel, and surprised her as well. It was rare (to say the least) that the head cheerleader didn't look either absolutely sure of herself, or barring that, absolutely sure of the utter inanity of whoever she was dealing with. The exceptions Rachel had noted were Sue Sylvester, and sometimes Santana. Occasionally, Mercedes since Babygate. Once or twice, Sam. The look she was giving her now, was devoid of either haughty self-assurance or scorn. It was bordering dangerously on charming.

"Uhh. What?" Quinn asked.

Rachel coughed to cover her mirth and her reaction, among other things. Even the blond's less than eloquent response was still somehow disturbingly alluring.

"Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition", she repeated like that explained everything."

Quinn shrugged and tilted her head, "Clearly you are quoting something, or else you've gone mad. Which is it Berry?"

"Monty Python? You know, 'nobody expects the—"

"Spanish Inquisition. Yeah I got that part. However, repeating the phrase is not going to enlighten me."

"It's about—" her face quirked. Part contrite, part amused she continued. "Oh. You know, come to think of it I'm guessing perhaps irreverent comedy about religion and politics have probably not been big hits at the Fabray homestead?"

Quinn shook her head, still puzzled. "You sound like you're apologizing. Don't." She noted the the diva's wide, nervous smile and waved her hand dismissively, laughing in a way that she hoped put her at ease before she answered. "Yeah. Not so much. I mean, I know who Monty Python is. Well, sorta? I mean, Santana dragged us into a Gwyneth Paltrow marathon for Brittany once. So among other things, I saw _Sliding Doors_, and I remember something about Monty Python. Or was it Father Abraham? I was never entirely sure what that was all about."

Rachel clapped her hands happily. "Oh I loved that movie. So sweet, yet so full of angst and uncertainty. And Gwyneth was further perfecting her British accent." Quinn thought she looked particularly reverent.

"Yeah it was pretty good I thought, but it did seem like I was missing something with this whole Spanish Inquisition business. I'm unclear on how it was supposed to be funny, but, whatever. And the singing about Father Abraham? Clueless."

Quinn watched as the brunette looked thoughtful and earnest for a few seconds, and she barely suppressed a giggle. The earnest Rachel face was actually pretty endearing, and now as she watched, the thoughtful look disappeared and was replaced by a grin.

"Well, just so you know, we have the entire Monty Python collection here should you ever wish to further your education. That includes the Flying Circus episodes, which I might add, I believe is actually where the Spanish Inquisition reference comes from."

The taller girl chuckled. "Good to know Berry. Let's see," she tapped her chin and looked up, squinting one eye. "Okay. Gambling, check. Sacrilegious films on tap apparently, so what's next? "

A surprisingly hearty laugh for such a tiny girl filled the room. Rachel scooped up the movies she'd been holding and walked to the den. "Well, you know, I'm Jewish, and so is dad, so we have the eating of Christian children covered. I'm not sure about daddy. We gave up shellfish and pork for that I hear."

Rachel was pleased to have elicited the obviously hearty snort she heard behind her. "No crab legs or bacon? Well I hope the little Christian tykes are worth it because I think you got the raw end of the deal. And hey, here I thought you were vegan, or vegetarian..." Quinn teased as she followed her, still snorting.

It was an absurd topic to be laughing about, but yet they were comfortably giggling about some seriously ridiculous notions.

Quinn caught her breath. "Is it me, or have we wandered into the absurd?"

"Absurdia." The brunette nodded sagely.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you might have heard it. It's a Finnism. Well for lack of a better word it is. One movie night I agreed to watch _Disturbia_…he heard Shia LaBeouf is Jewish. Anyway, Distubia, Absurdia. Yeah."

While Rachel talked, Quinn discreetly surveyed the room trying to figure out where to sit. There was a love seat couch. And a larger L-shaped sectional also. She wasn't sure where Rachel's dads would want to sit. "Ah. He was quite pleased with himself I take it?"

There was a snort. "Indeed he was." There was a flopping sound behind her, and Quinn turned to see that Rachel had thrown herself with gusto onto one side of the love seat. She cocked her head and looked up at her. "Okay, so Finn is clearly not the gifted wordsmith that you apparently are. This is not a huge surprise to you I wouldn't think."

Quinn kept pointedly silent for a few seconds before speaking. "Well, I think it would fair to say that a game of Strip Scrabble would end unpleasantly for Finn."

"Uh, for everyone around him as well." Rachel tittered.

Quinn arched an eyebrow that Rachel couldn't see. That was an interesting comment she noted.

**AN/ Sorry, bad point to leave off, but well there you have it. Yes, I did obviously in fact look up Na'vi for this chapter. Yes I do actually like 'Sliding Doors.' And 'Four Weddings and a Funeral' is one of my favorites, (maybe I just like hearing them say bugger and fuckity fuck?). Since the wreck, I miss quality time with my itunes in the car. I'm stuck with radio now. I miss my Mumford and Sons and Ani Difranco and and O.A.R, and my Gladys Knight all in one playlist. What station has that format the 'alternagrrlrockcollegemotown' playlist? I ask you? Anyone? And my podcasts! Argh. I think I just depressed myself again. On top of that I now have had ridiculous songs on repeat in my head. Of note, "Another Day in Paradise" by Phil Collins. Ha! I hope it's stuck in all of your heads now too! ;P Okay, that was mean. And I'm sorry, John Mayer, isn't he like a jackass now? I've heard way too much of him. I mean really, what did he sing after Your Body is a Wonderland? I have to admit that I did in fact rock out to John Mellancamp's "Jack and Diane" yesterday, which I haven't heard in forever. **

**Much like Piper Perabo's character is now playing a keyboard on a rooftop in NYC while she gets ready to strip down and sing to Australian boy, I occasionally adopt a very healthy willing suspension of belief. Come on. Women dancing on a bar top to Devil Went Down Georgia? What's not to like? So, yeah I now use this same willing suspension of disbelief when I watch Liverpool play. And it worked! They won! Woo hoo!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up has already aired. A/U obviously at some point.  
**Rated:** R for language

**A/N: Well…still Unbeta'd. Sorry for all mistakes, feel free to point them out. Reviews would still be very much appreciated, as we all know authors live off of them, even part time authors like moi. And I still love popcorn.**

**A/N 2: Thank you as always to those of you who take the time to comment or review. It definitely makes my day. **

**A/N 3: ****So! Hope you guys enjoyed this, as I certainly had fun playing hooky this afternoon writing it. And, as my car is totaled, and Liverpool are AWFUL right now, fun is good right about now. Also, I caused a complete clusterf.. when I accidentally deleted chapter 5. I probably reintroduced mistakes... sorry!  
**

**

* * *

#########################################  
**

"Is this okay? I mean we can sit on the big couch, but daddy likes to stretch his legs sometimes. Oh, I also have a beanbag somewhere if you'd rather sit on the floor?"

Quinn smiled and shook her head. "No, I don't mind sitting on the floor, but I would definitely not care for a beanbag. I used to covet my sister's, but well, that was a disappointment. They're so-"

"Loud?"

"Exactly!"

"I know. And like, they're cold to the touch, and any movement produces either a squeak or loud rustling that drives you crazy!"

The blond laughed and rolled her eyes and shook her head self-deprecatingly. "Yep. And you wouldn't believe the wheedling I had to do to get to use my sister's. Not to mention taking over her chores for two whole weeks!"

"Oh no!" Rachel put her hand to her face and covered her mouth and the smile, brows scrunched in sympathy.

Quinn sighed dramatically took a spot on the floor in front of the love-seat facing the other girl. She put her long legs out in front of and crossed them at the ankle, propping herself up with her arms behind her. "Oh yes. She wouldn't let me try it until I shook on it on deal. And shaking on something is a big deal our house. So I couldn't back out."

The diva stopped to consider that. "Well, I commend you honoring your commitment. So what did wheeling and dealing little Quinn end up having to do?"

She dropped her head back dramatically. "Oh, I just had to fold her clothes and dust her room." She lifted her head and eyed the other girl. "Dad put a stop to me taking over her trash duty when I twice made a huge mess trying to yank the bag out of the kitchen garbage. Everything else I did though."

She growled a little. "That damn beanbag. Oh, but I certainly pretended I loved it," she snickered.

Rachel raised her brows at that.

Quinn shook her head and laughed. "No WAY was I going to let her see that she'd put one over on me. I dragged that bright red thing all _over_ the house. Plopped in it, played on it. I was a stubborn little thing I guess." She giggled at the memory.

"Was?" The brunette gave her a pointed look.

"Hey now, kettle" she started to defend herself, but she was interrupted as Curtis leaned into the den.

"Hey girls. Two things. One. Do we have a verdict on the movie yet? Two, anyone want popcorn? Oh and Quinn, despite Rachel's protests, we make popcorn on the stove here. No air popped or microwave garbage here."

Rachel made a pretend sound of annoyance before admitting it was good. "I would never suggest microwave popcorn. I simply maintain that air popped is the most healthy option.

"Pfft. Please. You know it doesn't have near the flavor MY popcorn does…"

"I know, I know. Yes, Quinn, it's pretty good. And at least they use organic sunflower oil now."

"Sounds great. Air popped is like those Styrofoam packing peanuts. However, it does happen to be on Coach Sylvester's approved list. Which means I definitely do NOT want air popped."

Curtis grinned. "You'll love my popcorn, just like Rachel does, even though she hates to admit it. So I will whip us up a batch. I use real butter to top it, but I put aside some for Rach so she can feel superior in the healthy department. Which would you prefer?

"Oh, either is fine."

"Butter it is then!" He left the room, but then popped back in. "Rachel, Quinn is going to think you were raised in a barn. What're you doing making a guest sit on the floor?"

Rachel looked affronted at the accusation and looked about to express it. Quinn, who had been smiling at the popcorn exchange cut in before she had a chance.

"Oh it's okay Mr… Curtis. I was just stretching my legs, and also she offered me a beanbag. However, I plan on availing myself of some room on the up there too, once we choose a movie. Which probably answers question number one."

"Still no movie? Don't make Jonathan or me pick one. He's on a Nicholas Sparks kick, and I don't think I can take that right now. And if I pick…well, who knows…" he trailed off as he left.

Rachel slapped her hands onto her knees. "Okay, what do you think? _Princess Bride_? Feeling bold enough for Monty Python? Or just flip a coin, draw lots, Rock Paper Scissors?"

"Hm, let's give the competition a rest for the evening. I don't want to have to give you a beat down at Rock Paper Scissors on top of the poker. I think I'm good with _Princess Bride._ Monty Python will have to wait for another time."

Quinn's lips twitched as she watched Rachel parse her carefully off hand comment. The girl's calmer non-Glee, more casual demeanor might have been in evidence more of late, but Quinn really couldn't help her own shy smile as she witnessed Rachel's small grin quickly bloom into the Berry megawatt variety. It had clearly dawned on her that Quinn had implied that maybe there would be another time to watch Monty Python and that maybe this wasn't a one off social event.

However, after allowing the huge smile to emerge, Rachel surprised Quinn by her brevity. She simply bounced off the couch and announced "_Princess Bride_ it is then. Excellent choice." Quinn nodded firmly, and kept her slight smirk to herself.

**#########################################**

Before the movie started it had been rather abruptly decided, possibly against her better judgment, that she would indeed be staying the night when Jonathan had earlier inquired about Quinn's plans for the evening.

Curtis had jumped in to explain that Rachel still had a legal curfew regarding how late she was allowed to drive after dark. That meant that he or Jonathan would be driving Quinn home if necessary after the movie. He hurried to assure her that was no problem at all, but if she wasn't staying the night, Jonathan would forego a beer with popcorn so he would be completely sharp to drive her home.

At this point, Rachel had given her dad a look of mild mortification, feeling that he had put Quinn on the spot.

At first taken aback, she told herself to get a grip, smiled nonchalantly and said she'd love to stay as long as they didn't mind, provided there was something for her to sleep in.

Rachel had perked up instantly, assuring her she'd find something, and that she even had extra toothbrush for her to borrow. Quinn had then smiled at Jonathan and told him to enjoy his beer.

In truth the blond had still been feeling mildly trepidatious about that much proximity to the other girl, noting her heart rate felt like it had sped up for some reason when she contemplated being in Rachel's room. 'Right, Quinn, _some reason._ Damn subconscious,' she chastised herself.

An hour later found them all in the den, a fire in the fireplace providing most of the light, save for a small antique lamp from a bookshelf. The girls occupied the two-seater couch, legs tucked underneath them, individual popcorn bowls in hand.

Quinn now shifted so that she was wedged into her corner with one leg out under her, and one leg out to the side, but bent so it didn't touch the other girl, and grabbed a bit more of the blanket they were sharing. On the screen, Inigo Montoya was informing the Man in Black that he should 'prepare to die.' They had all gotten comfortable, and Quinn was feeling warm and relaxed again after the slight unease stemming from the now mostly settled question of where she was sleeping that night. She was avoiding thinking about the actual logistics of where she would sleep. Perhaps there was a guest room. She wondered if perhaps that might not ought to be the smartest thing to be hoping for at the moment.

She nibbled at the popcorn, savoring it one kernel at a time, enjoying the familiar movie and the unfamiliar but surprisingly comfortable company.

On the larger sofa, Curtis had his long limbs stretched out on the 'L' part of the couch and his feet propped up. Jonathan had a large bowl of popcorn that he kept close.

Curtis reached over to grab some popcorn, and was flummoxed when Jonathan mischievously pulled it out of his not inconsiderable reach. "Hey now! You know, I made the popcorn. This doesn't seem right."

"Your popcorn? Isn't possession nine tenths of the law? It seems like this is MY popcorn at the moment."

"Oh I cry bullsh…hooey on that. There is no such law. That is an adage. Or some obscure English Common Law something or other."

"Be that as it may, it applies. I have the popcorn. You do not. However, as a supplicant, you may petition me politely for some…"

Curtis laughed. "Alright Berry, I see how it is. I'll remember this. Keep it up. No more pausing the movie for you when you have to get up. You'll be sorry you drank that beer. And then the popcorn will be mine."

Jonathan didn't answer; instead he just grabbed another handful of popcorn and stuffed in his mouth.

Quinn listened, amused at the exchange. She only had to turn her head slightly to put the men as well as Rachel in her line of sight. Rachel was shaking her head and looking at the ceiling. She abruptly picked out a piece of popcorn and threw it at her in the direction of her two dads, where it landed on Curtis' shoulder.

"Dad, stop hogging the popcorn!"

"There you go, there's a piece for you," Jonathan said smugly.

"Smartass," was Curtis' rejoinder, followed by "I'm not proud." He then picked up the piece and ate it.

"And, at least someone loves me! More kiddo."

Rachel sighed. "Argh, fine. You ready? "

"Yup?"

Quinn watched as Rachel picked out another piece of popcorn. She took aim and lofted it with surprising skill at Curtis, who adjusted to the slight shank to the left, and snapped it out of the air. "Nice one."

"Happy? Dad, you behave and give him some popcorn." Jonathan grumbled but passed the bowl.

Jonathan shook himself mentally. He had been this close to making fun of the fact that his daughter felt free to order him around in his house. It was on the tip of his tongue to include Quinn, and ask if this was how it worked in her house. He was infinitely relieved he had stopped himself.

Jonathan was unfortunately familiar with Quinn's father from the business community, and knew him to be a self-righteous jackass. Now he was even more certain in his assessment. He glanced at the girl surreptitiously now. He was very glad he hadn't tossed off any offhand comments in fun. She was clearly no saint, but he was a firm believer that nurture played as much a part as nature when it came to being a decent human being, so it was certainly neither all her fault, nor insurmountable. He couldn't imagine what the Fabray household was like, or had been, but it sounded stringent and unforgiving. He was shaken from his musings by the girl in question's pleasant laugh, and it pulled him back out of his thoughts. He observed them indirectly as continued to share the popcorn, and he caught his husband's eye. They shared a look of pleased and surprised wonder at the apparent success of the impromptu evening.

Quinn laughed at the antics. "That is quite a skill you have there. Can you do that Rachel?"

"Are you kidding me? Easy. I am a woman of many skills…"

"Okay, then let's see it."

"Fine. Make sure you get some loft on it, but not too much! I cannot be held responsible if inferior throwing technique drags me down-hey!" She stopped speaking and expertly snatched the abruptly tossed popcorn out of the air with her mouth and tongue and pulled in quick as a flash.

Quinn guffawed and clapped. "Wow. You guys are like seals, or penguins, or whatever."

Rachel smiled and chewed. "Like I said. Many skills."

Curtis belly laughed. "Long distance high five, mi hija."

Rachel chomped her popcorn and held up her hand for the imaginary high five with her dad, as Quinn watched amused.

Jonathan stood up. "Okay. Since you all are clearly entertaining yourselves so readily, for the moment. I'm taking my break now. Carry on with your circus display." He turned back around and admonished Curtis "Don't eat ALL the popcorn. Please?"

"We'll see" he answered noncommittally, but he winked at Quinn. "I told you it was good stuff, didn't I?"

"It really is very good. Much better than air popped or microwave, definitely."

Rachel sighed and shook her head, "yes daddy, much better."

"Why thank you. I need compliments to live you know."

Rachel rolled her eyes and threw another piece of popcorn at him, which he caught out of the air with his hands and popped into his mouth with a smile.

###########################

* * *

It was just after eleven before they listened as the Grandfather told the boy from The Wonder Years that since "_the invention of the kiss there have been five kisses that were rated the most passionate, the most pure. This one left them all behind_."

Rachel enjoyed the movie as she always did. Truly, the evening had been all the more entertaining and somehow fresh with Quinn there. She knew the whole movie by heart, of course. She knew where all the romantic and funny parts were. She knew all the kissing scenes and loved them. It was how kissing was supposed to be. The sweetness and purity and the longing.

The movie had always fired her imagination from when she'd first seen it. Even then, she was imagining the perfect sweet boy she was supposed to share those perfect kisses and adventures with. In her mind's eye she conjured Finn and his goofy smile, and his over-eager kisses in her mind. She suppressed a sigh.

Of course, she was well aware of her own nature and her tendency to have bigger than life expectations. Was a perfect romance and perfect kiss from the perfect boy too much to expect? She knew that it couldn't always be like that. She knew it wasn't fair to compare epic fairy tale romance of _The Princess Bride_ to what she had with Finn.

And yet, it irked her that she was starting to settle. And when did Rachel Berry ever settle?

Thinking hard now, she had to admit that except for the first time she had kissed Finn, and then the second time when he had kissed her? Well. Other than those two times, (so portentous she had thought then) it had never felt, well, special? Good? She couldn't really say that his kisses now provoked any longing in her. At least not like it seemed she saw in Buttercup. Or other heroines for that matter. Of course Finn was always 'longing' for something, but she was pretty certain it wasn't kissing. Okay more than pretty certain. She touched her hand to her lips as she looked down, unable to keep from feeling a sense of something missing.

###########################

* * *

From her angled position on the couch, Quinn couldn't stop herself from sneaking a peek at Rachel out of the corner of her eye under the cover of the relative darkness of the room as Westley and Buttercup kissed for the last time in the movie. In fact, she'd suffered the same loss of willpower during each of the kissing scenes throughout the movie. Each time she'd watched Rachel gently bite her lower lip between her teeth and hold her breath. Then there was a little sigh, and sometimes she'd put her fingers to her lips, and always she'd look down at the floor, big eyes sad, or longing, or perhaps just wistful. Then she'd turn back to the movie and the look of delight would slowly return.

Each time, Quinn would realize she'd been holding her own breath, and she was forced to take a slow full breath to make up for it, trying not to be noisy and obvious about it.

She didn't know if Rachel's sad look was because she was thinking of Finn and wanting to be kissing him at that moment, or, if she was just sad because kissing Finn was nothing like what was being portrayed as the height of romantic on the screen. Having kissed Finn herself obviously, Quinn was well aware that Finn was something less (way less) than a master at the art of kissing. That knowledge, coupled with the fact that Rachel had a distinct bent for the dramatic and epic, she dared to think it might be the latter.

She flatly refused to contemplate why that conclusion was pleasing, as she sat still watching the other girl rather than the screen.

Which is of course when Rachel looked her way.

Seeing the head turn towards her, she ripped her gaze from the lips wanting to turn them back to the TV, but the dark eyes caught her gaze and held it a moment more. She couldn't read the expression there. Feeling the heat of the room and the fire all at once rush to her face. 'Thank god it's dark in here. Dumbass' she mentally reprimanded herself for the umpteenth time.

"Ah," Movement and a voice from the other couch indicated either Jonathan or Curtis was stretching and probably reaching for the remote.

Quinn jerked her gaze away and turned too quickly to see Rachel's lips to pull into the smallest of knowing smiles, but out of the corner of her eyes she saw the dark head tilt her way again. She was almost brave enough to look back again. Instead she cleared her throat and adjusted the blanket.

Jonathan clapped his hands lightly."Great movie, eh girls?"

Simultaneously. They both barked their responses.

"Oh, yes, excellent!"

"Loved it as usual dad!"

Curtis looked at them quickly and gave a little shake to his head. He stood and popped the DVD out of the player and put it away, while Jonathan stood and yawned and stretched dramatically.

"Okay," he spoke through his yawn. "If you girls want to watch…whatever you kids watch today. Whatsisname with the hair? Conan O'Brien? Saturday Night Live. Whatever. We're going to clean up a bit and head to bed, so the tube is all yours."

Quinn started to pick up the popcorn bowls, but Curtis took them from her, and then turned to his daughter. "Rachel, do you need me to get an extra pillow down? Or, Quinn we do also have a guest room cum office with a serviceable day bed. Well barely serviceable. I'm afraid it really is not very comfortable. Mostly because it's brass and squeaky."

Rachel turned towards Quinn looking a little sheepish. "Ummm… I'm afraid I might have been known to jump on it when I was younger. I might have enhanced it's squeaky qualities."

Quinn lifted her chin and smiled. "Ahhh I see." The thought of a tiny Rachel going crazy jumping up and down on a bed somehow didn't compute.

"I do have a queen sized bed, just so you know. And I'm not really much of a sprawler. At least I don't think so." Rachel paused and smiled. "It's up to you, I'm happy to make up a bed in the office on the daybed for myself too. Since I am the one who made it so squeaky and all."

Quinn looked from Curtis who was looking at her expectantly, to Rachel who was looking at her with an unreadable expression. She looked like she was trying to be reassuring. She took a breath, and smiled at both of them.

"That's silly and I'd hate to be any trouble. I'm sure Rachel and I can share." Rachel's eyebrow quirked the tiniest bit and she smiled. Not sure what the other girl was thinking of at the moment, Quinn continued. "Oh, ummm. I do have one request. I sorta like to sleep on my right side. Since the pregnancy—it's just become a thing."

Curtis nodded, and Rachel smiled and shrugged. "Well that is no problem for me. And I'd trade sides for the night to avoid that day bed."

"Okay, it's settled. Let me grab a pillow and an extra throw. Rachel is a cover stealer Quinn. Would you prefer firm, extra firm? I think we have a one of those memory foam pillows somewhere, but I can't swear to it."

"Oh, firm is fine, and thank you. For everything." She smiled at him graciously.

"Sure thing. It was my, well, our pleasure. Back in a jiffy." He called to the kitchen. "Say goodnight Jonathan."

"Goodnight Jonathan" Jonathan answered back.

Quinn giggled, and Rachel rolled her eyes. "Good night daddy!"

"Goodnight Mr.— Jonathan!"

"Good night... Ms—Quinn!"

Rachel looked at her and shook her head and groaned. "Welcome to the Jonathan and Curtis Comedy Hour. They're here every night…"

Quinn smiled and threw a small pillow at her. "Now what? Do you really actually watch Saturday Night Live?" She sounded skeptical.

The diva tossed the pillow back at her. "Sometimes, smarty pants. Depends on my mood."

Rachel noted the appearance of The Eyebrow, and squirmed under it's power.

"Okay, fine. In addition to my mood, the identity of the musical guest might perhaps play a part in the decision as well."

Quinn smirked. "Ah, that sounds about right." She wasn't a huge fan of SNL, but she was certainly on board with staying up and watching most anything that kept her out of Rachel Berry's bedroom a little while longer.

"Well, let's see who it is?" She smiled cheerily, and grabbed the remote, praying it wasn't Justin Bieber or someone else equally as horrid that would no doubt be enough to send them to bed immediately.

**####################**

**Now. Altogether now. Everyone say 'Come on you Reds, before you get freakin' relegated, you sorry sacks of…' Or, alternately leave me a review. Or both! Apparently I'm feeling needy.**

**And now for something completely different. In my ongoing attempt to share my forced adult contemporary pain with the world. I leave you with two things Peter Cetera: "You're the Inspiration". And!…not to speak ill of the dead, (Dirty Dancing…a classic of course) But… Patrick Swayze and 'She's Like the Wind." Eep. May that invade your brain as it did mine on my drive today.**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N I don't know what happened, sorry, Chapter 20 (or 21 now) will be up tomorrow. I think I got everything synched again. Gr. So…yes. Chapter 20 was going to be incredibly exciting. Really! There was going to be a ghost and a dragon. And I think maybe a car chase scene. Oh, oh! And they were going to fly on an impromptu trip to Liverpool to see Sunday's massacre..er Match with Man U. But, oh well. Here's what you get instead until tomorrow.**

Before Quinn could find the channel, Rachel hopped up, saying she would help her dad find a pillow. And so she did.

**The end of chapter 20. Sorry, but wrestling with the chapters got old Pfft.**


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up has already aired.  
**Rated:** R for language

**A/N: Well…still Unbeta'd. Sorry for all mistakes, feel free to point them out. Reviews would still be very much appreciated, as we all know authors live off of them, even part time authors like moi. I am craving popcorn again.  
**

**A/N 2: First, a big shout out to jackaniny who actually told me my chapter had gotten screwy, thank you thank you! Okay, if you made it this far, I hope the foul up with Chapter 4-6 that I caused the other day didn't confuse you? If you're just started reading this a few days ago, you might want to reread that :/ Although I still haven't re-edited out the mistakes. I post, and then I make edits the first few hours, and I was too aggravated to do it then. Sorry, I had meant to get further on with this, especially with some Faberry. …but more tomorrow! **

**A/N If you have no idea what happened with chapter 20, basically I had insert a dummy chapter and that was it. Sorry!  
**

* * *

Rachel hopped off the couch unceremoniously and disappeared down the hall. Quinn craned her neck to see if she could tell where she had gone. Unsuccessful, she turned to fidgeting with the remote, scrolling through the guide in search of Saturday Night Live. The channel selection at the Fabray household had never been great. It wasn't a question of money. It was a question of 'appropriateness' of the channels available. Clearly Showtime or HBO were out of the question, but her dad hadn't even approved anything more than the basic level of cable because anything more than that included Independent Film Channel or Sundance. They were too subversive or something.

With her dad gone now, it was more about finances than control. Intent aside, the end result was the same; a dearth of viewing options. Staying at Puck's house or Finn's house had been the same. Single parent households much like her own now. Extra money wasn't going to cable. Mercedes' house had been an oasis in more ways than one obviously, but the premium cable had certainly been nice. She continued to scroll through the viewing options, mesmerized.

* * *

**#####################**

"Hey sweetheart, I've got it, you didn't need to come down here."

"I know. I mean, I just thought I'd help."

"Uh huh. Well thank you, but you didn't need to leave your guest."

"Oh, I know."

"Or…did you? Hey, kiddo, is everything okay? I mean, dad and I know who Quinn is, or…has been. We thought things might have…changed. Did we get it wrong? We can make an excuse for you if you ne—"

"No, no daddy. Oh no, it's fine. I just—"

"Just…?"

"Well, Quinn and I haven't spent a great deal of time together before. "

"And…?"

"Well. It's not like I'm unaware that I am…an acquired taste, shall we say?"

"Ah. Well, it seems to be going fine from my view."

"Yeah, I know. Or I thought I did. I just thought I'd give her a breather. We've spent a rather concentrated amount of time together."

"I see. I think. Well okay." He laughed. "May I inquire as to why this had never come up with Finn? Don't you ever need a breather from HIM?"

She rolled her eyes and smiled. "Well…"

"Well?"

She allowed her shoulders to slump heavily and sighed noisily. He barely contained his fond smile at her dramatics as she chose her words. "Well I'm taking one now, aren't I?" She crossed her arms. "And Finn is just easy? Er, well perhaps more…more simple would be a better way of saying that. He isn't particularly, for lack of a better word, intense?"

Curtis scrunched his brows and rubbed his chin, and then the back of his head.

"Well. I guess I have to say I'm glad to hear that, I'm glad that Finn isn't...intense. So Quinn is? Intense?"

She put her hands on her hips and looked up in thought. "No, I don't think I mean that really. Santana, one of her friends? Now SHE is intense. I guess Quinn, I don't know, with our history. I don't know, I would have to say at the moment it feels heavy…or intense. Not Quinn herself. Just the time we've spent together. I'm not sure what to call it."

Curtis maintained his expression of good humor and parental interest, hiding the mild concern he felt. He gave himself a mental high five for picking up on something in the air between them he couldn't figure out yet, but knew was there.

"I see," he said and nodded. But he didn't, not exactly anyway. "Sweetie, given your shared history, have you thought that maybe she is just a bit nervous?"

He had always worried about having a baby girl. He adored her, loved her beyond anything he thought possible. When they brought her home, he'd been overwhelmed with the scrunched up, loud little bundle of pink.

And deep down, he'd always been a little worried about raising a girl. He'd grown up with two brothers. No sisters. Girls remained a bit of a mystery.

But he liked to think he had become more adept over the years with Rachel.

He and Jonathan had been there for the rehearsals; the pick ups and drop offs for piano; the singing and dancing and ballet recitals; the vegetarianism they thought was a phase (but apparently wasn't). All of it. Or at least they had until she started high school

Suddenly at fifteen she typically (and with much fanfare) announced she intended to be more on her own, at least outside the house.

And so they had acquiesced, and worried themselves silly from sidelines. But they respected her request to be and abided by it. But even from the periphery they knew their baby girl was having a hard go of it in high school.

They were aware she was hassled at school. They were aware of the Finn situation, and then the Jesse situation. They were even vaguely aware of Quinn as the McKinley de facto leader of the pack. And then her convoluted pregnancy drama.

They watched and heard it all, or at least as much as Rachel was willing to share.

Now, watching his daughter step delicately, finally, into something approaching a social norm, he was torn between shame at being happy for that, and pride.

He did like this girl Quinn. But he also was familiar about her type, having played football and basketball himself. He'd been a jock, and he knew about cheerleaders. It was obvious she was gifted with the easy charisma most of them possessed. It was a shame she hadn't been using it, rather than fear, to run McKinley. It would have easier for everyone, including Quinn herself he suspected.

He took a deep breath, as he rummaged in the top of the closet for the other pillow, remembering her speech in the kitchen earlier. Jonathan had quietly filled him in on what he knew about the Fabrays. And given what he'd heard about Russell Fabray, it explained a lot about what was probably the driving force behind what he'd gathered about the Head Cheerio's quest for popularity, both before and after her fall from grace. It was acceptance. Something they gave Rachel wholeheartedly and without reservation.

He snagged the corner of the other pillow, and grabbed two clean pillow cases as well. "Here you go." He handed her one of the pillow cases and kept one, stuffing it with the second pillow, still mulling things.

Credit was due, he admitted. The girl certainly seemed genuine now. And Rachel seemed to be enjoying her company immensely. Even if it was 'intense' as she put it.

He cocked his head slightly, still wrestling with the pillowcase that he held under his chin. He was still agitated by something he couldn't put his finger on. No. There was something afoot here. The way he had caught Quinn looking at his daughter was something that, with the information he had so far, did not make a lot of sense. At least not to him.

He was definitely going to have to confer with Jonathan about his impressions of Quinn and her interactions with their daughter. At least he'd had two sisters close in age growing up. Maybe this was more in his wheelhouse. He hoped so. Because from his point of view, from the moment that Quinn had to speak to them seriously in the kitchen, it felt she was enacting some TV Land version of that old fashioned courtship 'speak to the father' (or fathers as the case may be), "ritual"

"Well my dear," he sighed and handed her the now encased pillow over to her, "perhaps a good nights sleep will help ease whatever you feel is, and I quote, intense about the evening?"

Rachel smiled and bobbed her head agreeably. "Maybe!" But something about the way Quinn had been looking at her at the end of the movie had her doubting that. "Thanks daddy"

"Anytime sweetie. Not that I did anything. Now scoot."

* * *

**########################**

Rachel emerged finally with not one, but two pillows in hand and a smile. Curtis appeared not too far behind her with a blanket in tow.

"There you guys are." Curtis dropped the blanket on the couch. Quinn looked at it and pursed her lips. It looked just like her own beloved green and blue plaid flannel pattern she had at home.

He stopped and opened the doors and poked a few times at the dying log and embers.

"Good night Quinn. Don't let her hog the couch. Or the covers." He winked. "Oh, so we already had breakfast for dinner, which leaves us some leftover bacon, and a few eggs in the morning? Or we have fruit and" he yawned and covered his mouth apologetically. "Well, okay Rachel can fill you in. I'm beat, I'm turning in. Don't forget to check the damper and make sure the fire is out before you go to bed. It's just about finished now anyway."

"Okay daddy."

Quinn waved at him, "Good night, Curtis. Thank you and Jonathan for breakfast for dinner. It was lovely. And please don't go to any trouble in the morning. I wonder if I'll even be hungry anyway, I ate so much this evening."

He chuckled and waved. "Please. You're teenagers. You'll be hungry. See you two in the a.m. Right? I mean you're not going to sleep til noon…again?"

She gave him a pointed look and dismissed him dryly. "Good night daddy."

* * *

**########################**

Quinn scooted over to give Rachel room on the couch, taking one of the pillows from her and placing it on her lap over her crossed legs.

The brunette sat down on the couch and pulled her knees up, before she paused.

"So, what do we have on?"

"Well, SNL is coming up. I'm not sure who's on though. Sorry I was flipping through to find ESPN2 to see if there was any repeat coverage of last year's cheer competitions."

"No luck I take it. Because not that I'm an expert or anything, but…that doesn't look like ESPN2."

"Well… it is possible I might have stumbled upon SyFy after ESPN2. I don't know what this is, but it appears to involve a natural disaster. And possibly very large creatures. It is still unclear. But the leads are scrappy. I like scrappy."

"Argh. I take it they've switched back to disaster mode after the _Caprica_ marathon. That is unfortunate, because I for one can live without movies with one word titles, like Tornado! Or Crocodile. Or Dinocroc, or Hive, or Anaconda, or etcetera ad nauseum."

"I will concur on the Crocodile and Anaconda, but I don't mind the disaster movies so much."

"Oh, hey, you know if you want to stay up and watch it or SNL, maybe we should change into some pajamas now? I can show you what you're options are and grab you a toothbrush?"

Quinn took a breath and held it with her cheeks puffed out and released it slowly while she drummed her fingers on her knee. There really was no good reason to not go along with that idea. Unless she counted being afraid to see the inside of Rachel's bedroom as a good reason. And that was going to happen eventually tonight anyway. She looked at the blue numbers on the cable box and nodded. "Alright, we've got ten minutes, so show me what you've got. Oh, and no animal motifs please."

The diva naturally rolled her eyes, but then whacked her playfully before she rocked back and used her momentum to propel herself over the side of the couch. Then she headed up the stairs. Halfway up, she turned and waited for Quinn. "So, you're saying animals are out. Well I hope argyle is okay?"

Quinn's answering laugh came out almost like a bark as she eased herself off the couch, a little stiff. "Well, I'd be foolish to expect anything else now wouldn't I?" She gestured for Rachel to continue, following her slowly up the stairs. She couldn't help pondering the oddity of her day with a lopsided grin.

########################

Rachel looked over as her guest paused tentatively at the threshold to her bedroom. She had placed hands on either side of the door frame and was leaning just her head in, looking around.

"You know Quinn, I don't have a cadre of Special Forces beanie babies lying in wait to attack in here. They're all safely in the basement area stored away again." She jerked her head towards the bed as she opened her dresser drawers and rummaged. "And Waldo there is a pacifist. At least I think he is."

A nervous laugh escaped her as Quinn leaned further in and peaked at the bed. There was Velveteen Rabbit type stuffed animal there, presumably Waldo.

"I was just making sure I wasn't going to be blinded by slew of gold stars hanging and twinkling from the ceiling."

"So, what did you picture then?" Rachel leaned her back and eyed the other girl who still hadn't stepped into her room.

"Honestly?"

"Of course, when you have you ever pulled any punches with me before?"

"Fair enough. Well, uh, I'd have to say an abomination of pink, gold stars, and maybe unicorns and rainbows. Oh, and Barbra Streisand of course. And an elliptical machine. Oh, I see that part is right."

Rachel pursed her lips and shook her head. "I see. No argyle?"

"Well, I admit I hadn't gotten as far as picturing argyle yet."

"Hmph."

"Which reminds me. I forget, what is it with you and argyle again?"

"Nice try, Fabray. I didn't tell you. And I still feel you are not in the proper frame of mind to receive such information."

"Hmph. I see. Well if it counts for anything, clearly I was wrong. About your room. Sorry Rach, I just had no idea what to expect. You always march to your own drummer, so I just…I don't know, I even thought you must have some recording equipment in here. I mean, in the MySpace videos…there were colors, like pink I thought in the background."

She trailed off, realizing there wasn't a lot she could say that would be helpful. She watched as Rachel appeared to nod to herself as she tossed three darkish colored shirts on the bed, before she started to rummage in the next drawer.

Fishing out two bundles of cloth and tossing them to the bed as well, she turned and faced the door. "Well?"

"Well what?"

"What do you think of the reality? And to get a better view, perhaps you might want to actually step in to my parlor, as it were"

"Said the Spider to the Fly?" Quinn raised her eyebrow pointedly and smiled a little.

Rachel quirked her lip and raised her own eyebrow in return, but said nothing. She backed away and went to her desk to turn on the small lamp there. Then she turned around to face the door again, leaning against the desk. She raised her hand and crooked a finger. "I really don't bite you know, even if I am supposed to be the Spider in your odd little scenario."

Quinn ducked her head one more time and then put one foot in front of the other and went the center of the room, while Rachel watched, amused. When she looked up and caught her eyes again, the diva opened her arms in a gesture that encompassed the room and shrugged. "Is it as terrifying as you imagined?"

Feeling a little sheepish, which not a feeling she relished at all, Quinn finally turned and looked around. It was a lovely room, with a vaulted ceiling, done in fairly neutral colors, with a lot of fall colors. Some deep browns and rich auburn and some creams and yellows filled out the rest of color scheme. There were some complementary colored silk flowers in a large rough earthenware pot on in the corner.

The study desk was a rich brown and held nested organizational boxes and her laptop. Next to it was the heinous pink backpack that she sometimes carried to school. Above the desk was one of Rachel's ridiculous coordinated calendars. Since she was actually facing Rachel, she suppressed her automatic eye roll, and turned quickly to the next corner.

There was an accent wall that held photos of her, and of her dads, and other people she assumed were connected to her family. A lovely sepia toned scene from what was probably Times Square adorned the other wall. There was a comfortable looking small recliner and small table. Along the wall there was a built in bookshelf that held a combination of books and knickknacks and various boxes and containers. One shelf held a menorah, and what looked like a pipe next to it.

There was a separate shelf with CDs and maybe some DVDs she couldn't tell.

She turned the last quarter of her rotation in place, and she released a quiet laugh. She could feel Rachel's eyes on her and she turned her head to smile over her shoulder at her. There was finally evidence of the Rachel Berry that she knew at least a little more about. Playbills and posters filled the area around her bed. Barbra Streisand was the object a few still shots that had been framed. There was the obvious _Wicked_ poster, as well as _Rent_ and _Spamalot_. A small Bette Midler photograph. Quinn smiled and shook her head. Above the bed itself centered, there was a mounted gold star.

Rachel watched the inspection, trying not to let her nerves show by fidgeting. She frowned a little and called on her considerable acting skills to at least appear calm, relaxing her muscles while Quinn finished her survey. But she couldn't help from quietly drumming her fingers as she watched the blond's shoulder shake slightly as she put her hands on her hips. Slowly the other girl turned to face her, amusement evident on her face.

"Well?" Rachel stomach tightened.

"Well, I have to say my expectations were completely off in some areas, and I mean that in a good way. And in others, well not so much. I mean obviously, there had to be a gold star somewhere in here." She smirked a little.

A shy smile played around her lips, as Rachel looked up from beneath her bangs. "Well, they are my thing after all."

"Indeed they are."

"Well, now that I have passed inspection, those are your choices." She lifted her chin in the direction of the bed. "At least what I think will fit you."

Quinn's forehead dropped. "Hey now, was that a dig at my body? After passing all expectation, I just as good as complimented your taste."

"Oh god no." she said quickly and sincerely. "I mean, that was a backhanded compliment about my room of course. But, geez Quinn, your body is practically perfect."

"Okay good. I mean for fucks sake Rachel, you're ridiculously teeny. I just got the baby weight off, and I don't think I need to be feeling like…well, Frankenteen again."

"Petite. I'm petite! Okay. So, yeah. You're just crazy. You are definitely NOT Frankenteen. You're freakin' gor…you're well— Look. You are not Frankenteen. So never think that." She was shaking her head vehemently as she walked to the other side of the room to get what Quinn assumed were her own pajamas.

Quinn was a little amused that the other girl had appeared to have suffered a bout of befuddlement. It evened things up a little for her somehow, and buoyed her confidence ever so slightly.

Then Rachel stopped and bit her bottom lip and frowned, looking unsettled again. "Which, by the way, Quinn, is really not a nice thing to call Finn, even if he is rather, well, big."

Quinn couldn't help the eye roll this time. "Try massive," she muttered.

A glare from the brunette, and Quinn snapped her mouth shut, feeling prickly and defensive again, which she hadn't felt around the other girl all day.

Instead, she took a deep breath and didn't retaliate with her usual nastiness, realizing there wasn't really an argument to be made to other girl in this case. She couldn't try to convince Rachel and her dads that she was a recovering bitch if she turned around and insulted her boyfriend. Even if he was freakishly large. Especially compared to his 'petite' girlfriend. Together, they just seemed wrong, and she thought the mismatch in size just emphasized it. At least to her.

She concluded her mental conversation and nodded her acknowledgment to the diva and mumbled a simple, if slightly grudging, "Sorry."

Rachel dropped the frown and sighed. "Look, it's not like I haven't noticed he's freakishly tall, and perhaps inconveniently large. I just don't think it's helpful or nice to call him names because of it."

Quinn kept her face studiously straight and looked at the makeshift pajamas on the bed while she took a deep and released it slowly and nodded. She looked up again at the brunette somewhat chagrined now, making an attempt at amends. She found she really didn't like feeling like she'd disappointed Rachel. Like everything else in the last forty eight hours, she stuffed that rattling thought in a box and left it alone.

"Okay, okay, got it. I'm a work in progress, remember?"

Rachel dropped the frown, and the tension dropped again as well, as she beamed. "Noted. And appreciated. Now, take your pick, I'll change in the bathroom and dig up your toothbrush."

"Okay, well hurry your petite ass up, or we'll miss SNL, or Dinocroc or whatever it is."

Rachel grinned and shut the door, only to knock quickly and open it mere seconds later before Quinn even had a chance to move. She poked her head in and stuck out her tongue. Quinn looked at her expectantly. "Just wanted to warn you. You'll no doubt be disappointed to find there is neither argyle nor animal motifs in your choices. Carry on…"

Quinn chuckled, and went immediately to the bed to see what she did have in store for her there. The bottoms looked a choice of cream yoga pants or dark sweatpants. She assumed they would fit okay, if a little shorter than normal. After their discussion about freakishly tall and big persons, she wasn't about to put on cream-colored anything. They'd probably make her ass look bigger. So she pulled on the black sweatpants, and tied the string at her hipbones. They would do.

Then she held up each cotton shirt to her torso to check for relative size. She could smell a light fragrance, a mixture probably of detergent and maybe a sachet of herbs in her drawers she thought. Yes, a little vanilla and lavender maybe. She held the cloth to her nose to smell again, and crinkled her nose and smiled at the scent.

The green one would do, though it was a little short at the waist and left a gap between the bottom and sweatpants. She shrugged off most of the insecurity that welled up at the thought of leaving her midriff showing. She had worked hard enough. She could get away with it again now.

As she undressed and neatly folded her jeans and sweater, she recognized that she was both relieved and disappointed that Rachel had gone down the hall to change. Mostly relieved. It wasn't like she hadn't seen Rachel and the rest of the girls of Glee in various states of undress. She'd just never had the inclination, or even if she had (out of curiosity for comparison sakes of course) frankly the time to notice anything. It was probably for the best she didn't have the opportunity tonight anyway, she told herself firmly.

* * *

**#####################**

**A/N Also to ****Narlik the**** Everton fan… pfft on your side of the Mersey. ;) Actually, I expected better things from you all this year too, WTH? Since I'm American, there is no one here to threaten me if I say I happen to like Everton as well. Except for your alum Rooney of course. Oh well. This year the enemy of my enemy is my friend. Anyone who beats Man U, I'm for. ; ) Come on you Spurs, Gunners, Hammers, Baggies, Toons. I really don't care who beats them as long as SOMEbody does!**

**Still feeling needy! (The Colts lost to the Jets, Liverpool lost to Man U on a spurious penalty, and that just covers the sports gloom). Comments will perk me up. ; ) And it's butt cold outside!**


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up has already aired.  
**Rated:** R for language

**A/N: Well…still Unbeta'd. Sorry for all mistakes, feel free to point them out. Reviews would still be very much appreciated, as we all know authors live off of them, even part time authors like moi. **

**A/N: sorry for long hiatus. There was moping and car shopping etc. I finally found a car last weekend. Yay! However, the damn power outlet isn't working yet and have to have fuse replace, so no iTunes as of yet. But at least I can listen to CDs. A big improvement. Plus I like the car. It is fun. **

**Thanks so much for everyone reviewing and adding and following along, even though I've been taking it a snail's pace (so far anyway…)**

**

* * *

##################  
**

Rachel closed her bedroom door behind her and left Quinn to change. She moved the few steps across the hall to the bathroom. It felt like an oasis at the moment. She'd been completely honest with her dad about her interactions with Quinn. First of all, they'd increased pretty much exponentially compared to just two weeks ago, when they nodded or spoke politely in group discussion scenarios, and then saw each other in glee. She would have described it as a diplomatic détente.

_Wow, I need some rest_, she thought. She was regurgitating history terms. Shaking her head, she got out an unopened toothbrush as well as a set of towels for Quinn before launching into an abbreviated version of her nightly routine. She changed into some comfortably baggy shorts and a loose t-shirt she favored. She pulled on some plaid flannel long pajama bottoms over her shorts. When she was finished brushing her teeth and using her new oral rinse, she washed her face.

She ran a brush through her hair and then twisted it back into a ponytail at the back of her neck. As she turned to go, she gave herself the once over, telling herself it was out of habit, and that it was important to always look her best. She put her hands on the sink and eyed herself in the mirror, speaking in a whisper. "Get a grip Rachel. You have Finn. You're just flattering yourself. And even if you she thinks of you like that, which is really pretty crazy mind you, you have Finn. And since when have you ever thought about girls?"

'_Since this afternoon, apparently'_ she answered internally and sarcastically. She scowled at herself briefly, potential frown lines and wrinkles be damned. She bit her lip and sucked on it thoughtfully. Well there was that _one_ time at Theater Camp. She shook her head. But her roommate Delia was odd, even by her own non-judgmental standards, and she had simply mistaken Rachel's willingness to discuss the other girl's possibly latent homosexuality as some sort of flirting. When really Rachel had just been trying to make her tiny little musician roommate feel a little less different. Rachel knew all about different, and knew it was a lonely place to live.

Unfortunately, Delia had soon started wondering out loud what it would be like to kiss a girl, all the while looking doe-eyed and meaningfully at her. Eventually, just before lights out, having run out of patience, Rachel had sighed dramatically and asked point blank if Delia wanted to kiss her. She heard a small delighted gasp across the short distance to the other bed as the smaller (even than her) girl's face had burst into shy excitement. Rachel wasn't particularly interested in kissing Delia, true. However it was true she was interested in kissing in general. So what was the big deal really?

Of course Rachel made sure to point out that she herself probably ranked pretty low on the Kinsey scale. Delia's face had clouded up, puzzled and forlorn. At least until Rachel added that it was also perfectly natural for teenagers to experiment.

Unfortunately for Delia (and perhaps even herself) despite the quiet background music (apparently on repeat, of Katy Perry's insipid "I Kissed a Girl") by the time the dry, awkward tentative almost terse meeting of lips was over, Rachel had come away fairly certain she just wasn't into girls (and definitely not into Delia). Delia must have sensed that, as it never came up again. Thank God. Rachel just remembered thinking that surely kissing was meant to be more fun than that? It looked more earth shattering in the movies.

She sighed, thinking back to really not so long ago. Because of course it wasn't until much later that she'd had her first proper kiss. With Finn. And thankfully that first kiss 'real' kiss had lived up to some of the hype. But then, by that time, she'd put so much time thinking about kissing Finn Hudson, she couldn't help but wonder whether now whether it was that great a kiss, or that her imagination had turned it into one.

And that one certainly hadn't ended dryly, at least not for Finn. She chuckled evilly, thinking back on what she only later figured out was recurring theme with Finn. His 'early arrival' issue, and his weird 'mail man' mantra.

She found herself wondering how many times her trigger happy boyfriend had needed to chant 'mail man' back when he was dating Quinn Fabray. She chuffed a bit. If even she'd had that problem with Finn, she could only _imagine_ it had happened with his gorgeous ex-girlfriend in the ever present Cheerio uniform. And with those pouty lips, Quinn was probably at really good kiss—

A quick light knock at the door jolted her out of her thoughts. _Crap._ Rachel felt her color rise in her cheeks, all the way up to her ears, and her stomach flip flop. She eyed her reflection sternly. Okay. _ixnay onway oughtsthay aboutway outypay ipslay. Umbassday_.

* * *

**##################**

Quinn knocked lightly again, listening slightly at the door.

"Uh, Rachel, did you fall in? I mean I can only imagine you have an incredibly thorough evening routine and all, but if you want to catch at least part of the monologue, you might want to think about wrapping it up in there. I'm just sayin'. But by all means, take your time…"

Catching her breath and clearing her throat, Rachel grabbed the towels and washcloth and whirled about to open the door.

"Hey, yeah, sorry, the whole oral rinsey-rinse regimen I'm doing now takes a bit longer than I realized." She thrust the contents of her hands straight at her guest. "Okay, so uh, here are your towels. Oh, and the new toothbrush as promised." She smiled quickly and made to squeeze by the taller girl through the narrow door.

Quinn raised her eyebrows in confusion, and backed herself to the door frame trying to make room for her suddenly babbling host. Not that sudden babbling was unusual for the other girl. Still, this seemed a bit odd. She couldn't help but catch the other girl's scent, fragrant of something like maybe pear and vanilla as the brown pony tail bobbed almost underneath her nose. Dropping one brow and raising the other in amused puzzlement, she watched the plaid flannel clad butt bounce out of sight and disappear into her room. Shaking her head with bemusement, she continued into the bathroom and set about cleaning up.

She inhaled the smells around her, still the pear and the vanilla scent and some minty fresh smell from the aforementioned rinse she supposed. She took a deep breath and eyed herself in the mirror, willing herself to think about Sam. Sam and his golden boy good looks. Anything but a dark haired sharp-tongued little munchkin with brown-eyes. And a cute butt. She groaned and turned on the water. Great. Now she had 'Brown-eyed Girl' stuck in her head.

She made quick, even rough work of scrubbing her face in the hottest water she could stand, and then brushed her teeth with a ferocity that Dr. Carl would probably not approve. She twisted the water off, and glared at herself.

_Knock it off Fabray. Yes, it appears to be true that Rachel is not as much a freak as everyone (not least of all yourself) thought. Yes, she is talented. Duh. And kinda funny. And smart. Yes, yes, fine. Whatever. None of that means its okay for you to be having bizarre sexually charged dreams and thoughts about her. I mean dreams. No thoughts. You're not having thoughts. It's all subconscious. Not your fault. Get. Your. Shit. Sorted.  
_

_Right. That's sorted._ She nodded firmly, and eyed herself with more confidence now. She exited the bathroom quietly and headed to Rachel's bedroom. Her real bedroom. NOT the bedroom that had showed up in her dreams. Not that she was thinking about those dreams. She smacked herself on the forehead with determination as she paused in front of the door. Suddenly she was feeling less confident and a little self-conscious about her borrowed sleeping attire. She shrunk her body and spine to minimize the exposed skin as she took yet another deep breath before poking her head in. Which proved to be anticlimactic, as it was empty.

Realizing Rachel must have gone back to the TV room for SNL, she descended the stairs quickly, wishing she had a blanket or something to cover herself with. She made her way downstairs and around the corner through the kitchen area to the den. The faint aroma of popcorn lingered there, making her smile.

"Hey there, did we miss it? Who's on hosting?"

Rachel smiled at her and pulled the blanket off Quinn's side of the couch, making an obvious space for her.

"Actually I think I got here just in time. Anne Hathaway, and Florence + The Machine are the musical guests. Technically, it's recording now, but we can back up and watch it."

Quinn smiled as she took the proffered spot, and then took her portion of the blanket.

"Ooh, cool. Sounds good. Pausing live TV. Now that is something I confess to missing. It was nice while it lasted at Mercedes. Well that, and fast forwarding through the commercials."

Rachel pulled a face and nodded.

"Oh, I know. That is a bonus. Even more importantly, it means dad can record his Top Chef or whatever and daddy can still watch his seasonal sports. The World Cup would have been World War III without the DVR, believe me."

Quinn snorted as she made herself comfortable tucking the blanket around her

She could hardly have missed that the World Cup had taken place, obviously. And soccer players do have nice legs. But she'd been something less than aware of the world outside Mercedes' house, and then her mom's house once her dad had moved out. Then it was the gym, and long hours running her neighborhood streets, with just her iTunes and herself for company.

Rachel had watched as she sat down. She noticed Quinn's half smile, and also noticed she'd become a little quiet. She wrestled with whether or not to dig a little deeper, not sure if she should risk wandering too far from the still fragile comfort zone they'd established. Wading past the easy give and take banter they had going could backfire.

She turned to find the diva quietly drumming her fingers on her knee as she worried her bottom lip.

"Spill it Berry. You look like you're about to pop over there."

"That obvious?"

"That obvious" Quinn answered.

Rachel hesitated a moment before she spoke. "Do you miss being at Mercedes house?" She bit her bottom lip and continued. "Do you miss your dad?

Quinn shook her head and let out a puff of air before answering drolly. "Geez Berry, really, don't hold back."

"I'm sorry. I just…I just wondered. If you were okay now? I mean, you seem pretty okay. But well. Yeah. I'll shut up now."

Quinn dropped her head back dramatically on the couch for a moment. Then she grunted and sat up suddenly, crossing her legs as she folded her arms and nodded her head, smiling sardonically as she formulated her reply.

"Okay. Uh, yes. Sometimes. And not just because of the DVR, just so we're clear. It's kinda homey there? But then again, I guess it is here too." She didn't look at Rachel as she said that, but she didn't need to. She knew the other girl was probably smiling at the roundabout compliment. She sighed and rubbed her temples before continuing. "As for my dad. I don't know. Jury's out on that. I'm glad he's gone. Best thing all around. But he is my dad. So yeah, I miss him. Or maybe the idea of him sometimes."

"I can certainly relate to that."

Quinn dropped her chin and looked over at the other girl who was examining the blanket in front of her, picking at invisible threads.

"Yeah, I guess you can. For what it's worth, Rachel I'm sorry that Shelby—"

"Yes. Me too." Rachel turned to and cut her off with wistful smile, catching the blond staring at her hands. Given the Manhands nickname, even if she knew it wasn't true, it still made her self-conscious. She fidgeted slightly and looked down at her hands.

Quinn sighed and gave in to her earlier impulse to reach for the girl's hand, only half believing the mental excuse she gave herself about doing it only to stop the restless fidgeting.

Rachel felt a warm hand enclose her, and she looked down startled as Quinn scooted an inch closer while she gave her hand a gentle squeeze. Rachel smiled in appreciation before speaking.

"But, hey, you've met my dads. Most days I happen to think I'm pretty lucky. And that's easier to focus on now."

Quinn gave another gentle squeeze in agreement. "Yes, you're lucky. That has becoming increasingly clear to me lately. So hey. Don't let anyone ever make you think otherwise." She bent closer keeping custody of the smaller hand. She watched the brunette head bob, non-committal.

"I mean yeah, you talk too much. What? Don't look at me like that. You do. You have, like, NO filter. You've got the 'different drummer' think down pat, that's for sure. You're mysterious sense of styles eludes me. And well everyone else, I assure you. "

"Hey! Quinn—"

"But hang on. Let me finish. I thought about it and well, us? We're not that different. Well, except the talking too much and the fashion sense."

"I think we covered that, thanks very much." She huffed some more and rolled her eyes.

Quinn sighed and scratched her nose awkwardly. "Getting there. So, yeah, we're not that different. What you did to that girl Corazon? Pretty HBIC worthy if I do say so myself." She sucked her teeth and whistled before continuing. "But well, I did the same thing to Santana, didn't I? And she's my friend. Sort of. I think? "

Rachel looked at her with an amused expression on her face and absentmindedly shifted her hand, rubbing her thumb over Quinn's fingers. She raised her eyebrow, inviting Quinn to continue her train of thought.

"Look, I kiss ass with Coach to a certain extent to get what I want, same as you kiss ass with Mr. Schue. Don't look at me like that. You do. Or you used to. And now, hell, you even stand up to him sometimes. Which is more than I can usually say for me. Though occasionally I get my way. Like, I got her to let us wear normal clothes starting after Thanksgiving."

"Saints be praised!"

Quinn snorted, surprised and giggled. "One. You're Jewish. What the hell Saints would you be referring to? Do you even have Saints? And two, what don't you like about Cheerio's uniforms?

Rachel flushed a little and shook her head. "Uh, nothing. I mean, it must be cold?"

"Uh huh, we'll get back to that. Anyway, moving on. So yeah, I'm channeling you this evening, aren't I? Letting fly every thought that comes to my head? See, it's not always fun to be on the receiving end of your rambles is it? Still, my point is, and I do have one, is this: don't let anyone make you feel less. Less than you are. Or can be. Okay?"

Rachel sat up straight and Quinn felt her hand start to tighten and the gentle rubbing stopped. Quinn squeezed again gently but insistently.

"Hey. That includes me, and every other HBIC type you're going to run into along the way. Because on your way to your inevitable Broadway debut?" Rachel's mouth quirked and Quinn looked again and caught her eye and smiled. "There will be more of us. Them, I mean."

The diva released the breath she'd been holding and deflated a little. Quinn nudged her with her knee to get her attention.

"And…"

Rachel's eyes widened, a little shell shocked. "And? There's more?"

Quinn could see her breathing was a little heavier and faster now and she was looking like she might getting a little huffy; she hoped she hadn't completely pissed her off and tried to head it off. She took a deep breath and continued firmly.

"And. That includes boyfriends. Finn—" she trailed off, losing some of her nerve.

"What?" Rachel's head snapped to her.

Quinn sighed. "I'm not trying to be a bitch here, I swear. I'm just saying that Finn could, well should, do better. You deserve it."

Rachel stayed quiet, mouth still in a firm line, expressionless. Quinn bit her own lips between her teeth before moving. She then held up her free hand. "Okay. Stick a fork in me, I'm done, I swear."

They fell into a silence for a moment before Rachel nodded and squeezed Quinn's hand back. She turned to her on the couch. "Thank you for your, er, bluntness Quinn. We have both certainly cultivated a reputation for it. So yeah, I do appreciate directness."

Quinn raised her eyebrow and pressed her lips into a thin line and nodded; she gave one more firm squeeze of her hand before she reluctantly dropped it. Then she slapped her hands on her knees and broke the tension.

"So! How about some SNL to lighten our momentarily maudlin mood."

Rachel snickered and laughed, shaking her head. "Maudlin? Really? You're still trying to intimidate me for Scrabble, aren't you?"

Quinn was happy to hear Rachel laugh again, and let her own cocky smile show.

"Me? Use intimidation? I don't know what you're talking about. Now, as for alliteration, absolutely."

"Wow. How do you keep this dork side of you hidden so well?"

Quinn pulled the throw pillow next to her and threw it lightly at her. "Let's watch the monologue, shall we? I like Anne Hathaway."

"Me too. I find her characters easy to identify with."

"Hm. Which ones? Let me guess. _The Princess_—"

"No. Smarty Pants. Not _The Princess Diaries_. Well, okay, fine, maybe. Still, I was thinking of _Ella Enchanted_. I mean her voice is not as trained as it should be, but she did belt out _Someone to Love_ without embarrassing herself."

"I'll give you that. Of course she's no Natalie Portman. But Anne Hathaway looks like more fun."

"But at least Natalie Portman is a vegetarian."

"I rest my case"

The pillow was tossed back yet again, as Rachel nodded with good humor. "Ya know, I set myself up for that one, and I even saw it coming, and yet? I just kept right on going, didn't I?"

The pillow made a return trip, but Rachel caught it out of the air as Quinn smirked.

"Kind of like you're driving earlier?" Quinn couldn't resist teasing. She put her hand to block the pillow toss she expected and squeezed her eyes reflexively. When it didn't come she cracked her eyes. Rachel had was holding it still. She watched as Rachel then placed it with exaggerated care, like it was a bomb that could go off, between them. She placed her hand on top of it. "I'll give you that one. And I think you've taken all the rounds tonight. It is probably in my best interest to call a truce. This would seem safest" She opened the hand.

Quinn eyed it nervously, while Rachel held her breath, she hoped imperceptibly. Quinn smiled and shrugged as nonchalantly as she could.

"I can be benevolent occasionally." She took the hand. Rachel's stomach tightened and she smiled as she reached for the remote next the couch.

"Okay, here we go."

Quinn chewed on her lower lip in an effort to control the silly grin that wanted to erupt. She was only marginally successful.

**##################**

**To those of you who have noted I'm a Liverpool fan…I'm undecided on the whole Torres to Chelsea thing. But… £50m is a LOT of money. I just hope he doesn't score on Liverpool this weekend. I mean I can't believe we paid £34 for Carroll, but maybe that will be good in the long run. And we also got Suarez, who I do like…but okay, he just served a 7 match ban for BITING someone. If those two go out drinking in a pub, I think they're going to get arrested.**

**And you Gunner fans…? they just blew a 4 to ZERO lead a halftime to Newcastle. I guess they didn't need Andy Carroll after all? And holy cow, Man U is losing to Wolverhampton right now. Probably that will change because I dared type that sentence. Ah well.**

**As for the OTHER football. Go…hm. Packers? I like the Steelers, but I'm not a fan of Big Ben. So…gooo funny commercials, and hope it's a good game. And then there will be Glee afterwards, yay!**

**Oh yeah, sorry, I love torturing you guys. I am picking up the pace now after this though, really ;) Now that I have a car payment again, I guess I'll be staying home more and writing…?**

**oh, and yes I used a pig latin translator, there is a reverse one too out there. Hey, if I can use it for Na'avi language, why not for pig latin?**


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up has already aired.  
**Rated:** R for language

**A/N: Well…still Unbeta'd. Sorry for all mistakes, feel free to point them out. Reviews would still be very much appreciated, as we all know authors live off of them, even part time authors like moi. **

**A/N 2: Not as long a chapter as usual, but I did say I was picking up the pace a bit. I usually get a lot of lovely comments about banter/dialogue (which I have fun writing) Sorry not as much of that in this one : -) Trying to keep updating more regularly now. I've had the funk flu, so you all should be glad I wrote MOST of this NOT on Theraflu. But..some I did. So that is my out if it doesn't flow as much…right?**

* * *

**################################**

Rachel giggled at the screen and the actor doing impressions on the Weekend Update skit. "That really is a good Guy Fieri. He is so over the top all the time, and I really don't get the backward sunglasses."

"Yeah, he always looks sunburned too."

"And he's obsessed with pork products."

"Well…okay, the sunglasses are pretty silly."

The blond tucked her hand under her chin as she propped her elbow on the couch.

Natural shifting and readjusting (not to mention a little chair dancing to Florence + The Machine) had brought the tentative companionable hand holding to an end. When Rachel had offered her hand in a peace gesture, it had felt organic and made sense. It felt good. Right. But once the connection had been broken, neither one of them knew how to pick it up again with out awkwardness.

And Quinn had felt a lurch of both relief and disappointment when Rachel had unconsciously slipped her hand free to clap her hands together when the musical guest was introduced.

She glanced over at her now, catching her suppressing a small yawn, for the third time. She half-smiled at her.

"Hey, Cinderella, it's getting late. If you want to go to bed, I promise won't feel abandoned. I'm afraid I am a little more awake than you after my impromptu nap this afternoon."

Rachel snapped her mouth shut over the yawn, or tried to, and covered her mouth, embarrassed. "No, don't be silly. I can hang in there. Besides, it would be unforgivably rude for me to just leave a guest."

The corner of Quinn's mouth inched up in a half smile. "Well, obviously I'm not going to kick you off your own couch and send you to bed."

She fisted her hand over her mouth again as another yawn tried to escape. "Well aren't you generous?"

"I told you I could be benevolent on occasion."

"Forgive me if I don't genuflect while I'm basking in your Benevolence…ness." She waved off another yawn. "Okay that isn't word. But no, I think I can make it. Besides, I want to see what the second musical set is going to be. And if I get too sleepy, I can just have my own little nap here, right?"

"Absolutely, seems only fair" Quinn agreed. She tried to tamp down a smile as a thought occurred to her. She promptly ignored the warning signal in the back of her brain that was alarmed at the plotting going on there. "Hey, if you're tired, you can lay down if you want?" She pulled her dangling legs up to cross them, and grabbed the pillow that had rested between them. "You can put your feet here. Or well, your head. You know, if you want to lie down."

Rachel pulled her lips to the side and pursed them smiled as she quirked her eyebrow. "You don't mind?"

Quinn shrugged nonchalantly and smiled. "Well, if you promise to genuflect in the morning. Well that, and as long as your feet don't stink? I'm fine. I mean, if you fall asleep sitting up, you're probably going to get a crick in your neck."

The brunette scrunched her nose and made as if to bend down and smell her own feet. "Hm, I don't think my feet stink, here, why don't you check?" She whirled her socked feet up to the blonde's head near her nose. Quinn jerked her head back and smacked them away, laughing.

"Hey now. Don't make me turn off the benevolent thing I have going here."

Rachel was giggling now, as Quinn sighed dramatically. She put the pillow on her lap. "Look. Why don't you just put your head up here and keep your possibly stinky dogs down there?"

Rachel smiled with satisfaction. "Probably safer that way."

Quinn rolled her eyes in mock annoyance. "Probably." She ignored the faint, pesky little alarm going off in her head.

_Safer? Uh huh. You're unusually full of it tonight Fabray._

* * *

Within twenty minutes, soft sighs and occasional murmurs were issuing forth from Rachel's sleeping form. She'd lasted all of fifteen whole minutes (and two fake SNL commercials) before rolling slightly to her side with a relaxed yawn and a tiny snort.

Quinn had smirked a little and shook her head, and let her hand settle, in as neutral way as possible onto Rachel's hip after she noticed her eyelids flutter closed. There was simply, she agreed with herself, nowhere else to put it. She kept her left hand safely on the armrest of the love seat though, and turned her attention to the skit with the Penelope character and Anne Hathaway at a soup kitchen.

As the show and the commercials played out in front of her, her mind wandered. She risked yet another glance down, on top of the half dozen she'd already indulged in.

Her natural inhibitions were slowly wearing down in her relaxed and warm state. Finally she surrendered to an impulse she'd held in check since the exhausted girl had fallen asleep, rather adorably. Keeping her breathing as even as possible, she tentatively reached for a thick strand of dark bangs that was threatening to tickle the sleeping girl's nose. She tucked it back as best she could and permitted herself a smile. But she stoically ignored the itch in her hand that wanted to reach out and stroke again.

_Good job Fabray. _She congratulated herself.

She thought about it and it dawned on her that she'd never had a chance to observe the girl completely unobserved herself. At least not when the diva wasn't 'on' and projecting her 'Broadway aura.' Sure she'd watched her in the school or performance environment, or fluttering around Finn or Puck last year. And honestly at those times she'd generally had something less than charitable thoughts in her heart, which naturally tended to color one's impressions.

And of course she'd watched her from the perspective of being what Rachel considered her 'supporting cast.' So she knew first hand that anyone witnessing Rachel's talents (even someone who might have, if not murderous then certainly vengeful thoughts) couldn't fail to be impressed and awed. Even if that dazzling smile was for everyone, and no one special.

But in those instances, it seemed that there was nothing Rachel wanted more than to be watched. So really, she'd never thought much of it. It had been grudging, that watching and observing.

It was true. She'd never before had the opportunity to take her in when the other girl wasn't even aware (or awake) to appreciate (or fear) the attention.

So now she studied the dusky, earthy undertones of Rachel's skin in the low light. She had to admit that she always thought it looked warm and inviting.

It was funny. Everyone made much of her own porcelain skin. She enjoyed the compliments, true. And she rarely bothered to acknowledge mentally that it matched so well with her Ice Queen reputation. Frankly, she doubted anyone ever had thoughts of anything about herself that radiated warmth. Unless her well-known laser glare counted.

She suppressed a heavy sigh, turning it into a deep breath instead, and looked down again at dark hair and the small expanse of exposed skin of her neck and collarbone. Her left hand twitched again as she thought about touching it.

_Ah ah. No touchy. Not a good idea Fabray._

She drummed the fingers of her twitchy hand lightly and took a deep steady breath and turned back to watching the screen, for all of thirty seconds.

She moved her thumb lightly against the sweatpants covered hipbone she was touching with her right hand. Completely out of left field, her brain conjured a song she'd heard somewhere out of her distant memories.

_Thighbone connected to the hip bone_

_Hipbone connected to the back bone._

_Backbone connected to the neck bone…_

Where the hell did that come from? Her brain sing-songed and mocked her. Something about hipbones and anklebones rattled around in her brain now. She stared down at the hipbone that was connected to the knee bone in front of her.

That had the unfortunate effect of calling to mind images of the girl's legs. For such a short girl, she clearly carried whatever length she possessed in her legs. And damned if she didn't show a ridiculous amount of them, at school at least. A small _hmph_ mixed respect and annoyance escaped her when she thought about it. She supposed she couldn't blame the Finn and Puck for horn-dogging after her. She'd always assumed she trotted around in her ridiculous short skirts everywhere. Apparently not. Maybe that was for show like the Broadway Dazzler?

The head resting on her lap sighed again, and Quinn watched as Rachel appeared to be doing her own twitching. She watched her lips curve, and then fall into an oddly appealing 'O' shape. Quinn decided the sleeping girl must have fallen into dreaming now, and reached down to push the hair away from her face again. Even though it was a too short a strand of hair, she proceeded to attempt to tuck it behind her ear, barely brushing the skin at her temple and running it behind and down a small warm patch of skin exposed at her neck.

Ignoring the warning voice in her head, she repeated the action. It was soothing somehow. Possibly because in her position there wasn't a heck of a lot else she could move at the moment.

_You're pushing boundaries Fabray. You know you are._

Agitated, she retrieved her rogue hand. Now she was starting to feel the inescapable mounting urge to move. Only because she was trapped and couldn't of course.

_Well isn't that a tidy metaphor? That must be what this is about. I'm not supposed to want it. I mean her. Or it with her? So therefore I can't get it, or her, out of my mind? Well this just sucks ass. _

Quinn rolled her eyes and looked up. Determined to at least ease her one of her urges, she shifted slightly, and felt the girl sleeping on her move too and readjust with a grumpy little sound. She held her breath and put her hands to support her neck and back and gently pushed and held her up a bit, at the same time uncrossing her legs so that her right leg was at least free. She twisted, thankful she'd stretched after her run, otherwise she surely would have cramped as she contorted herself. At last she managed to reposition herself so that her right leg was now running behind the slumbering girl, nestled between the (surprisingly heavy) once again sleeping diva and the back of the couch.

Rachel grunted and grumbled, screwing her eyes closed, as she resettled her head back on the pillow and slung her arm over Quinn's knee and thigh. She sighed again and relaxed with a mewling sound.

_Ah,_ w_ell, that's one itch scratched at least. _

Growling underneath her breath with displaced relief, she stretched her leg gratefully and pointed her toes, appreciating the new position. Immensely. For the ability to stretch of course. Certainly not because Rachel's butt and back were now pressed against the length of her leg, and definitely not because her shoulder was wedged into her upper inner thigh, and her arm was thrown over her knee and her little non-manhand was on her calf and knee. Absolutely not.

Back to drumming her fingers on the armrest, Quinn stared, unfocused, at the screen on which Florence + The Machine were now playing. She bit her bottom lip out of habit and toyed with it as returned to mulling over her thoughts, studiously avoiding her feelings though.

For perhaps, no definitely, the first time since her first bizarre dream about Rachel appeared, she let her mind wander and wonder, just a little. She wasn't about to give it free reign, but she didn't perform the metaphorical version of plugging her fingers in here ears and intoning 'I can't hear you, I can't hear you.' And frankly, she gave herself a mental pat on the back, because that was progress.

What exactly was this all about? She prided herself on dealing with reality. The reality of high school and its hierarchy was the impetus behind rise to power. She'd planned for it, she'd worked for it, made it _her_ reality. Sure, she was a master at manipulating her environment to the best that she could. But basically, she was a realist, plain and simple. Sure, she'd been in denial about her pregnancy to a degree, but only while she prepared to deal with it. And for crying out loud, she'd been sixteen. A little denial was to be expected! And after all, she hadn't gone so over the deep end as Terry Schuester, right? She wasn't living in a fantasy land. She'd done the deed, and then once she realized the consequences, she set about dealing with the reality of it. Granted, it wasn't the most forthright manner, but that was beside the point.

The point was, she was at heart a down to earth realist. And the fact of the matter, the current reality was this; apparently…she found herself attracted, for reasons passing understanding to her (so far), to Rachel Barbra Stubbles Manhands Two Gay Dads Having Berry.

_Awesome. Just. Frickin' Awesome._

She wanted to bang her head against a wall. Coming to terms with a phenomenon did not mean she had to like it._  
_

_It could pass. Maybe it will pass_? She tried to reason with herself. Which didn't work. Because of course she was a realist.

_Maybe it won't. Then what are you going to do about it Fabray? You're good at getting what you want. The question at the moment is this: how badly do you want it? What would you give up?_

She focused her eyes again on the warmth radiating from Rachel below her. She only then realized at some point she'd given up strumming the couch with her restless fingers. Instead, her Judas hand was now softly running over Rachel's dark hair, and softly brushing her thumb against her cheekbone. Her stomach flip-flopped, not sure how long she'd been lost in her thoughts and how long she'd been stroking her. She froze and held her breath.

Rachel's head shifted, her eyes fluttered a little. She whispered, voice a little groggy

_Oh sweet Jesus. Is she awake?_

Quinn couldn't tell.

"Quinn? Did I fall asleep? That feels so…mmm...nice. Don't stop?"

_Shit._

**

* * *

########################**

**Thanks again for commenting and reviewing and all the moral support for my hopefully resurgent soccer team who beat the hell out of Chelsea (okay, it was 1-0, but it was a huuuuge moral victory) I shall continue to pray for you Arsenal fans… **

**I shall continue to try to pick up the pace as I said. And of course comments always inspire me. **

**I'm of a couple of minds about what happens next. At the moment in my half Theraflu state, I don't know why I can't just drive the pesky boyfriends together off a cliff a la Thelma & Louise or something. Or send them off to build a baseball field in their back yard. (Yes, I think the Darth Vader commercial on Super Bowl has me channeling 80s/90s movies.) Hm. So anyway, feel free to let me know what you think about that…**

**p.s. lemon honey theraflu tea stuff is awesome.  
**


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up has already aired. A/U obviously at some point.  
**Rated:** R for language

**A/N: Well…still Unbeta'd. Sorry for all mistakes, feel free to point them out. Reviews would still be very much appreciated, as we all know authors live off of them, even part time authors like moi. And I still love popcorn.**

**A/N 2: Thank you as always to those of you who take the time to comment or review. It definitely makes my day. **

**Okay, this was a seriously a bear to write. It just would not come out. It just got hammered and hammered til I think I knocked all the shape out of it. **

**It sucks, but it had to be done. Writers block blah blah blah, and I wrote…er painted myself into a corner by leaving it where I did last. Argh. But I do apologize for it taking so long. And I'm like 3 episodes behind in the show anyway (so you know I have crazy busy!) So, I think I just have to say screw any time line from the show for now on. Begone constraints! I swear the next chapter is better (yes I added this note after I finished and posted the next chapter.  
**

**##########################################**

* * *

She should have known better. Rachel groaned inwardly wishing she could have a 'do over' like that _Being Erica_ show her daddy had gotten them watching. She needed a Dr. Tom. Why didn't she just keep her mouth shut? Why did she let her mind go walkabout on her?

She had just been so very content as she had drifted off to sleep as the concrete awareness of the room around her faded. The warmth of the places where she was in contact with Quinn had started to blend and spread over her body in a pleasant cocoon as she melted into semi-consciousness. So very, very content.

And then the dream. _Yes, dream,_ she scolded herself. _Not real_. _Dream._ Apparently her dream 'Hall Monitor' had taken off on her lunch break or something because when she reached for Quinn's hand that was gently caressing her hair, and daringly cupped it to her cheek before pressing her lips to inside of her wrist, it had felt real. _Very real._

After all, her dreams, daydreams or otherwise were generally filled with Tony, or Emmy, or the whole gamut of EGOT acceptance speeches. On occasion, when her dad had overdone the spice on one of his curry dishes there might be the brightly colored weirdness of a Bollywood style musical. Those dreams were always filled with exceedingly energetic dancing and singing, with stylized gestures of romance. There were rotating leading men whirling by her with adoring smiles on their faces. It always amazed her that Finn couldn't dance very well Dreamland either.

_Focus._

She felt safe in saying her dreams, day or otherwise, were NOT filled with Quinn Fabray that made her feel good and not terrified. So definitely not a Quinn Fabray who delicately ran her thumb over her cheek and lips, gently waking her on the couch. Not Quinn Fabray's lips brushing against her ear, whispering not quite heard but still somehow beguiling things in her left ear. Lips that skimmed her throat, her breast bone and her stomach, making it pull tight and forcing a small groan out of her as she moved her hands to grip Quinn's hair.

Her hands had then twitched as they clutched at a phantom Quinn, pulling her mind back to reality with tiny jerk and catch of breath. Awareness of her surroundings gradually reasserted itself, leaving her with an annoying sense of loss. She lay still, as she realized her mind had been playing tricks on her. Dirty tricks at that.

She could still feel the pleasant warmth of Quinn's leg along her back and the gentle weight of her hand on her hip, she thought. She'd congratulated herself on her superb acting ability, as Quinn didn't seem to notice she'd woken up, since she kept moving her fingers, flicking them lightly against her hipbone.

In the drowsy half-aware state she floated in now, she unwisely allowed her mind to wander, lulled by the soft touches she was only been half-sure she was feeling.

The gentle soothing movement of the hand against her hip had made her smile and sigh with contentment, and she tried to relax into it. She'd read that staying still is the best way to re-enter a dream, and while her heart was pounding, she concentrated on keeping her breathing relaxed and steady, willing herself ease back to pleasant, maybe even Quinn-filled sleep.

_Don't wonder why that sounds okay. Shhhh._

The warmth beneath her head and lining her back started working its magic again and she almost sighed with pleasure. Then she felt fingers ghosting in her hair again, combining with the gentle circles being rubbed against her hip. Her breath quickened, and she felt tingling when the hairs on the back of her neck pricked up, and the feeling radiated down her spine.

_Well then. That pretty well takes care of sleep. Now what?_

She was a good actress sure, but how long could she lie here pretending to be asleep with this proximity driving her crazy…with…with what? _Curiosity? Sure, let's go with that. _Unnervingly appropriate lyrics from "_The Word of Your Body" _popped into her head. Even Broadway was betraying now.

_**Just too unreal, all of this.**_

What about Finn, right? If she were laying here with him, would she be having the same physical reaction that Quinn's fingers were provoking? Certainly? Maybe?

_**Oh you're gonna bruise too.**_

_Like this will ever happen with Finn again anytime soon. __**Tranformers**__ viewing debacle anyone? Your head inches from Finn's crotch? Even with a pillow. Yeah, that went well. 'Mailman, mailman.' _

Laying there, her mind now racing as fast as her heart had been a few moments ago, she could for once muster some sympathy for an involuntary response to a simple innocent physical stimulus.

_Because surely it was innocent._

And that was beside the point. Finn was beside the point. At least at the moment.

_This? This is just unreal. _

It didn't make sense. Quinn was now, and always had been beautiful. Exquisitely so.

She was the fair-haired child (literally!) of Lima _WASP_ royalty. Okay except that _P_ part of _WASP_. Maybe Quinn was Episcopalian or Catholic. Did that count? Whatever. Her family was in the right part of town, belonged to the right Country Club. Had the right friends. Add to that her looks and her brains (not that anyone seemed to pay much attention to her brains) and things must have been set up perfectly for Quinn Fabray.

She had watched in awe like everyone else as the youngest Fabray scion achieved High School supremacy Freshman year, eclipsing her older sister, who had only managed it by Senior year. Yes, captaining the Cheerios certainly had secured Quinn Fabray's status. And Daddy's approval? Probably. What little Rachel knew pointed to a pretty cutthroat merit-based system of love and approval at the Fabray Homestead.

Rachel observed and perceived quite a bit about Quinn Fabray over the past two years. After all, she was practically McKinley's center of gravity.

What the budding diva hadn't predicted or ever understood, even now, was her own sudden claim to fame as the Head Cheerio's favorite target. She'd spent more than a few nights crying about it in the beginning. She finally decided at the time that it was because her dads were gay and she was Jewish.

Of course she knew now that Noah was Jewish, and she didn't seem to have any problems with Kurt, so that had never been it. It had certainly always felt intensely personal, whatever it had been.

For her part, up until Babygate, the diva had to admit she'd spent a shameful amount of time wasting her energy being jealous, (not to mention a little frightened) of the icy statuesque blond.

But she had a Sixth Sense, right? So she'd always taken a certain amount of comfort from the observation that while Quinn was beautiful and ruled the school, she was also a bitch. At least most of the time. And from where Rachel sat, she had no reason to be.

After some more crying and talks with her dads, and some reading, she came to believe that Quinn was a stone cold bitch because she was unhappy. And probably hiding insecurities. Or something else.

From what she knew now about how the girl's own father Russell had callously kicked her out of the house when she was pregnant, it was easy to find some sympathy. Clearly imperfection, uncertainty or deviation from the path laid out by her dad was not welcome, not to mention punishable. And that had clarified things a bit. Quinn's picture perfect family was far from perfect. Quinn was just as insecure about some things as she was. Insecure and unhappy and scared.

_Oh. And straight. Let us not forget the straight part. _

After all, she always had a boyfriend, or a boy willing to do her bidding. Well except Finn after Babygate broke. And even then she'd had Noah dangling on a string. And now Sam. Sweet and smart, too blond and eerily similar looking Sam.

Yes, this weird notion that Quinn Fabray might be harboring any lesbian tendencies was surely ridiculously unreal and completely implausible. Spurious. Okay, well, technically not spurious. Dubious. Oh, that's a good word for Scrabble.

_Crap. She is so in my head._

_Okay, how about not credible. Wait, is that the same as incredible? I need to look that up. Uncredible doesn't sound like a word. Let me think. _

_It would be _**incredible**_ if Quinn Fabray would actually be attracted to me._

_It is _**not credible**_ that Quinn Fabray would actually be attracted to me._

_I'm going to go with _**incredible**_. Yes._

She crinkled her nose at a tickling sensation near her temple. Seconds later, she felt fingers rake lightly through her hair as they tucked some strands of hair behind her ear. And then one, a thumb maybe grazed her cheekbone. Probably by accident.

But there it was again, and now she couldn't help the sharp intake of breath. The jig is up.

_Unlikely, implausible, crazy improbable…_

_I think kissing Quinn Fabray might feel _**incredible**_._

**##########################################**

* * *

Now, here she was cursing herself. She should have just lain there, enjoying the close contact and the twilight of her dream. She could have just stayed there all night as far as she was concerned. That's what she should have done.

But nooo, she just had push it, and let her cockamamie hormone flooded brain push it. And now she could see she'd broken the spell, and with something no less craptastically inane than 'Quinn? Did I fall asleep? That feels so…nice. Don't stop.'

_*groan* Don't Stop? Really? Crap. Crap. Crap._

**##########################################**

* * *

Quinn looked down, frozen.

_Shit. Shitshitshitshit._

Sleepy looking brown eyes gazed up at her, and Quinn's stomach dropped. Not just a little drop. It dropped in that "there is a cop and oh shit, I am clearly going 15 miles over the speed limit" kind of way. _That_ kind of nauseating drop. She felt her blood rushing while her heart pounded at a ridiculous tempo. Her hand stopped brushing through the dark hair, and her other hand stopped the small circles it had been making. Her face was surely on fire.

Rachel watched the face above her, hoping she was not broadcasting her own concern as clearly as Quinn was displaying her em

_Let's see. Look of complete and utter terror on Quinn's face? Check. Deer caught in the headlights look? Check._

Precisely what she'd foolishly been hoping she could avoid. Why saying 'that feels good, don't stop' (which now that she thought about it sounded like it came out of some porn movie) would work, was really beyond her just now. Not that she exactly knew first hand about bad pornos. She just knew it in the same way everyone knows '_Bow chicka bow bow' _is supposed to represent the cheesy porn music, right?

_Very Rico Suave. Nice Berry. For the love of God do not open your mouth._

Quinn's panic nearly doubled as she looked down at hand with a strand of brown hair still twined in it.

_She knows what I was doing. She probably thinks I was trying to molest her or something. Oh. My. God. Okay, okay. Speak. Plausible deniability. The best lies contain the most truth._

"I'm sorry, I uh, I didn't mean to wake you. You had…uh, some hair in your face, and it looked like it was…tickling you…? Sorry. I wasn't trying to…move it."

Rachel furrowed her brow and nodded easily and smiled as she rubbed her eyes. Quinn swallowed a little easier, satisfied with her explanation.

The diva had taken one look at the stuttering discombobulated Quinn, and she knew. She knew something was going on here. She almost couldn't restrain the grin that was bubbling up. She'd been in her head for the last several minutes dissecting this moment at warp speed; all the small ones she thought led to it, the ones that _could_ happen after it. But she'd done that all without the benefit of laying eyes on the girl. Now that she could see Quinn and her adorably flustered explanation, it seemed so simple and obvious.

_You're busted Fabray. _

Sandra Bullock in one of her daddy's favorite movies **Miss Congeniality** jumped into her head, sing-songing impishly.

"_You think I'm gorgeous. You want to kiiiisssss me…" Okay that would not be prudent to say out loud at this juncture. Not prudent at all. Shut it down._

She smiled and scratched her nose to cover the goofy grin still lying in wait_. _"Goodness no Quinn. No, it's fine." She put her hand to her hair, not quite having the courage of her dream self. Instead of grabbing her hand and cupping it to her cheek, she settled for barely grazing the now still thumb, catching it with her own thumb and forefinger as she lightly rubbed it. True, she only barely ignored the impulse bring it to her lips and bite it gently. But she didn't let go of it either.

She closed her eyes tightly and then opened them and blinked a few times and looked up. Quinn was had a relieve look, and her was smiling at her indulgently with her lips pulled to one side. Rachel quirked back a matching smile, hoping she'd managed to hide her own relief at diffusing panic, and the fact that Quinn didn't seem to mind that she still had possession of her thumb.

Quinn jutted her chin slightly towards the TV. "Uh, there are just a few minutes left. Are you okay to finish? And then after that I'd guess we're ready for bed soon?"

"Sure. Sounds good. I think I can hang in there for another ten minutes without falling asleep again." She smiled and turned her head back to the TV.

Rachel didn't look up but she heard the intake of breath after the blond spoke, and heard the slight pop and release of air as some of her tension released.

She paid no attention to the final skit in front of her. Fleeting thoughts of Finn were tumbling in. She dismissed them almost effortlessly. It should disturb her how easily. But that was something for her journal later. Whatever might be going on had a strange symmetry did it not? Finn had cheated on Quinn with her. Maybe it was just Karma. Finn had kissed her while he was with Quinn. Symmetry.

_Ah, but kiddo, you weren't dreaming about just kissing though were you? Didn't curiosity kill the cat…?_

Rachel narrowed her eyes, pulling her hand up to rub them as cover while her mind continued to race. _Satisfaction brought her back?_

She had to admit it would be foolish not to consider the possibility that Quinn was attempting a dramatic ruse here, a prank cooked up to further embarrass her. Quinn could manipulate with the best of them. But she dismissed that theory quickly. She knew enough of her ex-nemesis to know that even the idea of being perceived as a lesbian, even as a joke at her expense, would be a price Quinn would be unlikely to want to pay.

And then there was the fact that she'd actually spent time with the girl. And then, she'd also heard some of what Quinn said to her fathers. Quinn was changing, right?

And really, the idea that Quinn would _choose_ to be attracted to Rachel RuPaul Man Hands Berry was beyond laughable. It would be nothing short of social suicide. It made no sense, and she dismissed it.

Come to think of it, if she herself had Santana's appetite for revenge…well, this would be a golden opportunity to use this against former head torturer. That thought didn't even have a chance to settle before it was tossed away. Rachel just didn't have it in her, especially not when it came to Quinn.

In a way they'd been orbiting each other since almost the beginning of high school. Maybe it was inevitable, everyone playing his or her own part in our own mini Music of the Spheres. Finn, Quinn, Puck, Sam. Me. Quinn.

She stopped her tired musings for the moment. Now that she was ninety-nine percent sure she wasn't crazy, and that HAD heard Quinn mumble "Rachel Kiss me" she had to be very careful. Quinn was less volatile these days, but she could always sense a bit of the feral still lurking. And a fearful or threatened Quinn would bolt or attack. Collateral damage was a given, and it wouldn't be pretty.

Too bad there was no Quinn-sized Havahart trap. A little bacon inside one of those suckers, and ***bam*** one Quinn Fabray trapped!

She giggled, glancing up at the subject of her musings. She gave the thumb a squeeze and rub. Quinn tilted her head and arched her brow, naturally, looked at her as if she was weird, rolled her eyes with a small smile and looked back at the TV. And then? Then she adjusted her fingers so that two of hers interlaced with Rachel's.

Rachel tried to keep a straight face, but failed. Anne Hathaway was about to come on and give her farewell, thanks to everyone speech. Normally, Rachel would have wanted to lean in and watch. There was no way was she moving until she had to.

So, yes. Tomorrow. Perhaps a Plan. It didn't need to be PowerPoint worthy plan. However considering she had at least one other extremely tall and dense and sweet moving part she was directly responsible to she didn't think a fly by the seat of her pants plan was going to cut it down the road. Not if she wanted to keep Finn's friendship.

**A/N(s) Okay, sorry for the all over the place writing again. Like I said, I hammered pieces together, and moved things all over. The pets were batsh*t crazy all day, that didn't help. And so…yeah, this…is what was wrought. And it was not good. Not by a long shot. But…it moved the plot forward. And voila, got me to Chapter 25 which is decidedly more fun.  
**

**Read and review if you care to. I hope it wasn't as tortuous to read as this one felt like to write. Like some ancient burial ritual, I'd like to light this one on fire and send it down the river and be done. Hey, metaphors are important, right? Wow. I'm dramatic today.**

**On other notes, the Liverpool revival continues. Huzzah! And…hee hee. Torres hasn't scored yet for Chelsea. But since I sold him finally from my fantasy team, he probably will NOW, but that would be cool because they are playing Man U.**


	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up has already aired. A/U obviously at some point.  
**Rated:** R for language, and other stuff.

**A/N ! If you would rather, feel feel free to skip to Chapter 29 where our plot picks up after things got mutually, and consensually intimate overnight**. **Seriously. You won't miss any plot really. **

**A/N 2: Thank you as always to those of you who take the time to comment or review. It definitely makes my day. **

**A/N 3 yes, I actually cranked out another chapter. I had to work through the dross of yesterday's crrap. Uh, there is definitely more than cuddling and spooning. I know some will like it, some will not. :/ I guess that is my warning. Let me know if the warning should be a stronger.  
**

**Thanks for the anonymous reviewers from last chapter. Seriously. If M offends you, just jump to chapter 29 :)  
**

* * *

The blue light on the DVR stated 1:04 a.m. Quinn gave a squeeze on Rachel's fingers.

"Okay, that's a wrap. Time to hit the showers."

The smaller girl sat slowly up, stretching. "Hit the showers?"

"Yeah, sorry, Sue-ism."

"Ah, so you're equating the day to hours of torture? Great…." She covered a yawn and twisted side to side working out the kinks, stopping to grab the blanket. She smiled when she felt the small push on her shoulder.

"Of course not. You fed me."

"Which is better treatment than Finn got I could add. But won't."

"This is true. And thank you."

"Okay, I'm check to make sure the embers are out in the fireplace, and then I'm going to wash my face again."

"Hm. I wouldn't mind freshening up a bit. I'll sleep better."

* * *

Rachel turned on the bedside lamp before turning out the overhead light. She surveyed the bed, and then crawled in on her usual side. She didn't have a 'plan' yet, but she was pretty sure using discretion would be the better part of valor this evening.

She lined herself up as far to the edge of her bed as possible, and sat up with her hands folded over the blanket on her lap, waiting politely for Quinn.

The door opened, and she smiled at the tiptoeing girl. "Quinn, it's okay. My dad's are two floors down, you probably don't need to tip-toe."

She looked down at her bare feet and shrugged. "Habit?" She continued walking gingerly around to the opposite side of the bed and slid in while the brunette looked concerned.

"You're sure you don't mind that side of the bed?"

Quinn shook her head, amused at the concern Rachel was showing. "No really, it's perfect. I'm not really that particular one way or the other."

"Comfy?"

"Like a bug in a rug."

"Okay, good." Quinn wanted to laugh at the contemplative expression on her face, but held it in as smaller girl gave voice to her thoughts. "I've never understood that expression, but I get the meaning. Lights out?"

Quinn nodded. "Lights out."

The room blinked into relative darkness, and all that could be heard primarily was the rustling as each girl slid down inside the cover. There was a fair amount of fidgeting going on as they each tried to get comfortable.

Quinn could tell that Rachel was making sea changes on her side of the bed. She went from facing her to putting her back to her. Since she tended to sleep on her right side, she was a little more settled.

"So, I'm starting to suspect you might be as energetic in your sleep as you are during the day Berry."

Her eyes were adjusting to the light level now and she could see that once again the diva had her back to her. The lump next to her moved again and now she could tell Rachel was facing her.

"Sorry" the lump whispered.

Quinn chuckled and sighed. "It's okay. I've had to sleep next to Brittany at camp. She is given to sweeping roundhouse punches. Well not punches, but I've been caught by them a few times and they might as well be."

There was some shifting on the bed, as Rachel inched forward. Quinn shrugged herself a little closer to the middle as well. "Huh. I would think Santana would be the more…aggressive sleeper, shall we say?"

"Oh, well, I haven't slept next to Britt for awhile, this was way back. Yeah, you don't want to bunk down next to those two. Trust me."

"Ahh…"

"Yeah. Well, now it's okay. They don't sleep anywhere near each other right now."

"That's a…shame."

"Yeah. I guess. They're impossible to figure out."

"So they are…?"

"Oh yeah. Or they were. I don't know what their deal is now. With Artie? Yeah, I don't know." She trailed off. "Not that a boyfriend would normally be an impediment for S."

"Or girlfriend."

"Oh definitely not a girlfriend," she laughed, and it sounded harsh.

They fell into silence.

"It seems to me like those two would be much happier together. Maybe I'm wrong. Not that Artie doesn't seem to make Brittany happy…but it has always seemed, at least to me anyway, that Artie can be kind of…"

"An ass? Yeah, that was my take on it. You don't want to hear Santana's take on it. It will blister your ears. But yeah, I'm all for him having confidence, and having a girlfriend, Brittany or otherwise, but…"

"I've been reverse discriminating haven't I? Artie can be a misogynist sounding tool sometimes."

"Bingo."

"Hm."

"Oh, and Santana can be a complete tool, no need to tell you that I'm sure. But she's also…scared I guess?"

"Of losing status?"

"That. Certainly. And more than that. She's scared of being vulnerable."

"Ah. You relate to that, don't you?"

Quinn cleared her throat. The mattress dipped and readjusted as Quinn rolled onto her back and stared into the dark at the ceiling, halfway surprised there weren't glow in the dark moons and stars. Which might even be kind of cool. She sighed. Rachel was being more perceptive than she was comfortable with. Again. She took a deep breath.

"Maybe. And you don't? Anyone who isn't is worried about it is foolish."

"I suppose."

Quinn rolled abruptly back to face the singer, her head propped on her elbow. She half expected the other girl to cringe. She couldn't quite keep the edge out of her voice when she spoke.

"You suppose. What? You're not afraid of making yourself vulnerable?"

"I'm vulnerable every day I go to school, aren't I? I suppose that would make me foolish?"

"I suppose it would."

Rachel propped herself up on her own elbow as well, slightly annoyed, but mostly amused.

"A stare down in an almost completely dark environment is not much of a stare down Quinn," she mocked gently.

She had no doubt she was getting an eyebrow cocked at her, even if she couldn't quite see it in all it's glory. She sighed. "Of course I'm afraid when I make myself vulnerable, Quinn." She didn't voice her follow up thought. _I'm afraid right now._

"I just don't often let it get in the way of something I want."

"True dat."

Rachel sputtered and a small laugh erupted, breaking the tension. "Didn't we agree neither one of us could pull that off?"

"Yeah, well, thought I'd give it the ol' college try. Therefore making myself vulnerable to ridicule."

There was a snort.

"Like ridicule from the likes of me is anything to fear."

The silence loomed again. Both girls sought to crack it at the same time.

"I..."

"I…"

"Go ahead, Quinn."

"No, no no. Nature and Rachel abhor a vacuum. Go ahead."

"Er, nothing. Just, if you get cold…there is the extra blanket of course. And if you are the kind that likes to sleep in socks, I happen to have several very comfortable pairs. All clean of course. Or well, also, well if you're the snuggling type, there is Waldo here, and he doesn't bite., I can let you borrow him…"

Rachel had reverted to rambling Quinn noted to herself wryly. It was kind of endearing. She smirked broadly in the safety of the dark while the diva continued.

"Or…well just so you know, I don't either. Bite that is."

Rachel heard a sharp intake of breath. Not waiting for a response, she lowered herself onto her back again, pulling the cover up to her chin.

"What did you want to say?"

"Uh. Nothing" The bed moved as Quinn slid off her elbow. "Nothing. Er. Thanks. Good night Berry."

Rachel sighed inaudibly. _Too much._ She always went a bridge too far. "Well, Good night Fabray. Sleep well."

Quinn smiled and took a deep breath. "No kicking."

"No kicking."

There was more shifting as the next few moments went by. Quinn rolled onto her side again. She could see the tangle of black hair, indicating Rachel was facing away from her. She hunkered down and stared at the hair. For one minute, and then another. Small movements told her the other girl was still awake.

_Fuck it. Just…fuck it._

She scooted towards the other side of the bed, leaning up over the indistinct shape and whispered quietly.

"Hey, Rachel? I had…a good day. A really good day." She paused and breathed out before adding a nearly inaudible "Thanks." It was a complete accident her nose nudged the diva's ear.

She stayed half a second, intending to move back to her side of the bed, but curiosity kept her there another second more as she hovered. She was not even sure what she expected. Acknowledgment? Maybe she'd been mistaken when she assumed the other girl was still awake.

She decided it was probably a good thing she was sleeping. And then the movement below her both terrified her and relieved her.

The petite body rotated slowly onto her back, and Rachel looked up at her. It almost looked like she was frowning. Not quite what Quinn had been expecting really. Not that Quinn quite knew what she was expecting, but frowning just hadn't been one of the possibilities she'd considered. Her face started to feel warm and she started to slink back away to her side of the bed.

Faster than she could figure out what was happening, surprisingly strong fingers snaked out and grabbed her left hand in a firm grip. She sucked in air, surprised, as she felt her hand pulled steadily away from her.

"Feel this."

Rachel must have been able to see well enough to gauge Quinn's wide-eyed, slightly fearful and probably comical reaction.

The diva huffed. "My arm, Quinn. Feel my arm. Gently." Quinn felt her hand pulled to her forearm. She felt soft skin, and something else. Goosebumps. Rachel released her grip on her hand, but kept contact with it as Quinn skimmed the surface, unable to help herself.

"And before you ask, no I'm not feverish or sick and this is not my subtle way of informing you that you might have contracted H1N1 virus by contact."

Rachel held her breath a moment, enjoying the sensation of the warm hand on her skin. Quinn stayed silent and stilled her hand. She watched the other girl.

Rachel silently battled_._

_This was not part of the plan._

_Screw the plan_, _you don't even have a plan yet, _she retorted.

_This could blow up in your face. It probably will. _

_But if it doesn't…_

Finally, she looked earnestly up at the taller girl. "Quinn, I assure you I am really not trying to make you uncomfortable. That is the last thing I want to do. But I happen to have very sensitive ears. Which you have no reason to be aware of. But...when you whispered in my ear, you did this to me."

"I give you goosebumps?" It was the barest of whispers, almost too low to hear.

"You do. I felt that as you are sleeping a mere foot or two from me, it was my duty to inform you. You should know I would never-"

The hand breezing over her arm again now closed over her wrist and squeezed it. "Rachel."

She stopped. Startled into silence, she squeaked out a fearful "yes?"

"You talk too much."

The diva gulped and ducked her head. "Yes, I've been told that on numerous occasions, by numerous people including yourself—"

"Rachel. Can you be quiet a moment?"

The brown curtain of hair moved as she nodded.

Quinn took a deep breath and released it with a violent puff, before bending to catch her eye as best she could in the dark.

"Something _you_ should know? If you keep talking right now? I might forget or ignore how very badly I want to kiss you at this moment." She could hear Rachel's breath hitch.

She eked out the next few words in a whisper, not even sure the other girl would hear them.

"Which may not be a bad thing."

She pulled back breaking all contact and tried to read a reaction, which was of course impossible. She'd heard the pop of the singer's mouth clamping shut. She heard breathing, and the pounding blood in her own head.

She paused while her stomach did flips. Waiting to hear if she would speak again. Not sure what she wanted. Quinn whispered again.

"Just say the word, any word, and I'll leave you alone. Pretend I never said that."

The cheerleader moved infinitesimally closer. No words yet.

Quinn actually felt a little bit predatory, as she eased her body so that she hovered over the smaller girl. And she had to admit she liked it a little.

"No words? Are you sure? You can say anything you want, really. " Suddenly she was anxious she really was in fact acting predatory.

The dim outline of the features below her looked up at her. Hands trailed up the side of her body by her rib cage moving around to her collarbone and then up to her face. The small, _completely_ non-manlike hands cupped her cheeks letting her thumbs meet in the middle over her lips where they moved to the corners of her mouth gently. Quinn smiled a little into them. One hand moved down to take Quinn's hand that wasn't supporting her weight. She felt it being pulled to Rachel's lips, which were closed. But so soft.

She looked down, sensing as much as seeing the saucy quirk of a dark eyebrow. Rachel looked up with dark eyes_._ No words._ Just the very insistent word of my wanting.  
_

The hand holding Quinn's released her fingers, and reappeared behind her head, fingers twining in the hair at the base of her neck, so Quinn now used both hands to support herself. Biting her own lip and then licking it once in nervousness, she finally dipped her head into the dizzying orbit of Rachel, brushing against her full lips, almost nuzzling them.

A small thumb appeared again and brushed against her lower lip. When she felt the warm swipe of a tongue against her lip, followed by teeth she heard herself release a completely base guttural moan. An answering moan from beneath her made her flush with heat, and her stomach tighten.

Having nothing but sheets or blankets beneath her hands to grip, Quinn twisted them. Strong fingers in her hair tightened their grip, as lips slid open and tongues met.

Now Quinn felt her own set of goose-flesh rise at the back of her neck, she pulled back whimpering a little, and shivered. The sensation covered her body now. Rachel cupped her hand to her jaw and rubbed it, soothing, questioning.

Even with her eyes squeezed tight as she reveled in the exquisite torture of the sensation passing over her body, Quinn could feel the concern of the girl beneath her. Shaking herself once, she grinned wickedly before leaning and swiping her tongue along the shell of Rachel's ear, eliciting a mewling sound. Pear and vanilla floated into her brain.

She returned again to the sumptuous lips kissing them deeply before pulling back just enough to whisper into them, "you give me goosebumps too. All over."

She was rewarded with a sassy giggle. And then a nibble to her lower lip before it was pulled gently between her lips. Quinn couldn't help herself and she moaned, barely containing a growl.

Now she felt an iron vice grip on her bicep as the singer groaned again, louder. Quinn backed up, and put a finger to her lips hissing. "Your dads are home!"

"Sound proofed room, silly."

"A little creepy, but okay then." Her brain was pretty fuzzled.

Rachel looked at her and Quinn could tell she was rolling her eyes. "For the vocal exercises dumbass."

"Oh, right, okay. Not creepy. Convenient?"

"Could be."

The blonde's laugh thrummed low and husky as she swooped to nuzzle an ear, repeating the warm caress with her tongue, and gently bit on her earlobe, causing the diva to arch her back involuntarily. Quinn smirked into the skin below the ear and kissed it.

Insistent now, the fingers twined in her hair pulled her back and down for another scorching kiss. She could feel Rachel's skin against her own bare stomach where the too short top and the low slung sweat pants gapped.

Her mind did cartwheels when she reached down to skim her hands across the soft skin there, moving her hand further up coming closer to places she'd heard from Sam that she barely let Finn touch, even fully clothed.

She paused in a moment and pulled away enough to look the singer in the eye to see if she was crossing boundaries. She was dying to see or at least feel the supple skin she was sure was under there but she wasn't going to force it. But there was no help there, as all she could see was dark hair thrown back on a pillow, as she gasped for air, eyes shut tight.

Instead she put her hand to some of the tendrils of dark hair and brushed it back. "Is this okay? If—"

One eye cracked open and she smiled crookedly "Good God. Off!" Quinn flinched. "Not you. I mean my shirt. Take it off. And yours." Quinn almost laughed. Partly with relief that she wasn't being rebuffed and kicked off, and partly because it was just funny. Rachel poked her finger firmly into Quinn's chest.

"You jump I jump Jack."

The tilt of the blonde's head probably made her look like a Golden Retriever, which might be why Rachel giggled at her as she answered the puzzled expression.

"Titanic, it's from Titanic. "

"Oh, I thought it was from Gilmore Girls. I never got that."

"Ah, I have so much to teach you Fabray." With that she reached out and grabbed the bottom hem of Quinn's shirt and started inching it up.

"In for a penny, in for a pound then?" Quinn quipped before she abruptly swung her leg slightly off and over Rachel's thighs so she could fumble around off to the left. She finally managed to tap the lamp light into it's lowest setting. Not enough to even read by.

The room took on a low yellow amber glow. But at least she could see the girl in front of her now. She looked at her steadily, and raised an eyebrow in question and waited until the flushed brunette nodded as she intoned the verdict.

"Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go."

Quinn knew that one from class. T.S. Eliot. She nodded and pressed her lips together in an indulgent smile. She took that the quote as assent, and only then did she resume her position.

Once she was kneeling over Rachel's quads again, she cupped her face again and kissed her slowly. She was still raging with lust, but it was slightly less demanding, at least for the moment.

She sat back again. Rachel looked her in the eye, checking in there, and then she reached for her Quinn's shirt again. The taller girl reached down and touched her hands, and then lifted her arms over her head to help Rachel free her.

There was a soft sigh, and a low "wow." Quinn looked up at Rachel who hadn't gotten past "wow" yet.

Flattered and a little bit proud, Quinn shrugged. "You wanted vulnerable? You've got me vulnerable," she murmured shyly.

Rachel flushed deeply, trying to find the appropriate words to say. Still nothing came to mind but a simple "So gorgeous." And then she added an afterthought.

"The light back on? Brilliant."

Quinn laughed, still shy, but feeling bolder. "Anything worth doing is worth doing well, right?"

"Absolutely. Of course."

"Yes and well, as I have no idea what I'm doing, I thought perhaps a little light on the matter might be helpful."

Quinn pushed forward for another kiss, and reached for the bottom of Rachel's sleeping shirt. She leaned back to eye the girl again.

She didn't even have time to cock her eyebrow impudently before Rachel had practically ripped her own shirt off and tossed it to the bottom of the bed. Both of Quinn's eyebrows went up in amused shock. And then she looked at the sight before her, wondering where all the blood went, because she felt a little light headed and it clearly wasn't getting to her brain. She did slightly better than Rachel and managed to formulate a response to the sight of the beautiful body in front of her.

"Well and then there's the fact that I can now see…well, those. Yeah. The light idea was a winner."

_Well this is going to be interesting_.

* * *

**Read and review if you feel so inclined. I do hope this makes up for yesterday's morass. And the long wait...?  
**

**A/N yes, I finally got them in to bed. And you thought they were just going to cuddle some more, didn't you! Ha. Hm, Okay, maybe I might should move it to M for next chapter. hm. Opinions? I mean, I don't think is too smutty, but what do I know. Next chapter two chapter more spicy, skip to Ch. 29 if you've had enough  
**

**Anyway, I think it might be a bit rushed, but…I suppose that is a bit laughable considering this is chapter 25? *g* I'm sorry this turns into sorta a cheating situation at least at the moment. But I just don't see Quinn's character (even my nicer sweeter one) breaking up with a boyfriend to find out if she likes err, kissing girls. So, there. And Rachel has her own bizarre world logic about Karma and Finn and Quinn. At least in my world. ****And I think more spooning and cuddling would be great too. But, sometimes, you just have to say...what the heck.  
**


	26. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up has already aired.  
**Rated:** M for language and sexual situations… T chapter picks up again at Chapter 29

**A/N1: Thanks so, SO much to all the reviews from last chapter. All you people that came out of the woodwork. Hope this one is okay. *shrug* I promise there is actually more plot on the other side...  
**

**A/N2 Feel free to skip right over this to Chapter 29, where the plot picks up again. You will have missed nothing except the gory details...**

**A/N3. I changed the rating to M because…this, and the next chapter feel a bit less fluffy and a bit more PWP at the moment. I know where I'm going next but..., now that I got them IN to bed, they will be there a bit longer. Which I guess only makes sense considering how long I can apparently stretch out a day, no?**

**

* * *

**

Rachel liked many things about her own body. It wasn't as if she was oblivious to the fact that for a petite person, she had long well muscled legs. Her biggest gift was her voice. Obviously. However, of course it wouldn't hurt her Broadway career to cut a nice figure on stage while she dazzled them with her performance. Therefore, she kept in shape. But like every young woman, she saw things in other women that she admired, or to be frank, envied.

In front of her now, seeing the smooth porcelain expanse of skin, it just took her breath away. She envied it, true. Now instead of wanting it for herself, she just wanted the girl who was blessed with it. She wanted to touch that body. With her fingers, with her lips.

She wanted to run her tongue over the little dip created by the muscles in her abdomen. She was dizzy with the scope and sudden onslaught of her wanting. She wanted it all.

Rachel's chest felt tight, and she had trouble catching her breath. She swayed on her knees and bit her lip as she took the opportunity to appreciate the sight before her.

All the words she could really formulate were only in her head right now, and she wasn't sure she wanted to share with the class.

_I don't know why. I don't know how, but I am so, sososo so gay right now. So very, very gay. Gay for Fabray. That will look delightful scrawled on my locker. But look at her. Totally worth it._

She just stared, raking her eyes down and back up again, appreciating the simple strong lines of the Cheerio's toned body. There was a barrage of words wanting to get out expressing her thoughts. Still nothing would come out of her mouth. All she could manage was a half-whistle sound, and then she licked her lips nervously.

Meanwhile Quinn had collapsed back into a kneeling position when her normally strong legs suddenly felt a little weak as she could finally see the singer's graceful torso. The light turned her skin an enticing honey color. Dark hair dropped just past her shoulders. The light played off her, casting shadows at the hollow of her throat and across one breast. Her body was simply magnificent.

The intensity of the look she was getting from the other girl just blew Quinn away. She looked down at herself wanting to squirm a bit, fighting hard against the urge to cover herself up under the scrutiny.

Shaking her head slowly she pushed herself back up along with her bravado. Normally so controlled she said the first thing that came to mind, appropriate or not, unable to help herself.

"Cat got your tongue?"

The brunette flushed and looked painfully at her, like it was killing her not to be able to express herself. She just shook her head, took a deep breath and released it in a puff of air while she shrugged holding her hand out to indicate Quinn's body from head to knees. "Just…have you seen yourself?"

It was her turn to flush a little. Her cocky demeanor was returning at least a little bit. Unfortunately, she was apparently channeling a cocky 17-year-old boy.

"Puck is right. You are one smoking hot Jew." She put her hand to her forehead. "I can't believe I just said that."

Rachel chuckled, she glanced up and then dropped her eyes bashfully, but the awkward spell started to fade and her words came back to her. "Noah, or anyone else for that matter has never seen me like you are now. Trust me."

When the diva put her hands on her hips, Quinn inhaled again, getting a better view of Rachel's breasts as her orientation changed in the light and cast different shadows. _She looks flawless. God am I any better than Puck? _She cocked her eyebrow, relieved her juvenile comment didn't offend.

"Hm. Well not unless he's been skeeving about spying on you. Which…well, I wouldn't put past Puck."

She put her hand to her head and pinched the bridge of her nose, rolled her eyes mentally at herself for even mentioning the boy's name the first time, much less second time. "Sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me, really, I'm just blathering and I can't seem to shut up."

Rachel pressed her lips together and shook her head amused. "It's okay. And while I'm certain he would sell his soul to be a fly on the wall right now, how about we not talk or think about Noah Puckerman right now?"

Quinn snorted derisively and nodded her head vigorously. "Deal." She was nervous as hell, and she needed to keep moving. She bit the inside of her lip, desperate to close the space between them and touch that warm enticing body. She couldn't decide if it would be completely unsexy if she walked on her knees across the space between them on the bed.

Shaking off her nerves, or trying to, she inhaled as she looked down at the space between them on the bed and up again.

Rachel studied her, watched her eyes. She tilted her head and smiled. She could see that Quinn's sense of boldness had taken a hit. That was okay, she could inject her own here.

She raised her eyebrow looked at the top of the bed meaningfully.

"Quinn Fabray, I could look at your magnificent body all night, believe me, I really could. But I'd hate to miss out on getting to touch it."

Then she dropped down slowly to her side and slid towards the pillows at the top lay in the middle of the bed.

If the cheerleader thought a half-naked Rachel kneeling in front of her was sexy, she didn't know what to call the sight of the girl draped on the bed before her now, one knee just slightly bent. She watched as Rachel smirked at her as raised her hand and crooked her finger.

Heat flooded through her, settling and pooling low. She dropped onto all fours and crawled slowly up the singer's body, taking note of the evidence that it was also a dancer's body. Something she tended to forget. She wouldn't forget again.

Dropping her head so that her hair framed her face, Quinn succumbed to an urge brought on by the view. She dropped her lips to the flat stomach just to the side at her hipbone. She felt fingers twining themselves hair again as she dragged her open lips across to the other side, skipping over the cute little belly button. She closed her lips over the opposite bump of bone in an open-mouthed kiss and flicked her tongue over it once.

She had no idea what she was doing in terms of practical experience of course, but then again, it wasn't as if she didn't have an imagination, right? She hadn't pulled those steamy dreams of Rachel Berry completely out of her ass. Granted, she wasn't entirely sure where her dream imagery came from, but it had all looked good in her subconscious, and she could run with that.

She started to continue her slow journey upward, but her pace was hijacked by the grip of the fingers in her hair gently tugging her upwards. Taking the hint, but lightly growling her disappointment, she moved upwards level with her eyes again. Her hips settled their weight partially between the dancer's thighs.

Dark eyes glinted and held hers. "Sorry, I just missed kissing you."

"Yeah?" Quinn looked pleased.

"Yeah." She pulled her in close, so their lips were almost touching.

Small forays were traded. Quinn would lean in and cheekily nuzzle and steal a quick kiss only to pull away again mischief in her eyes. Then Rachel would lean forward and capture lips trying to pull her in and Quinn would back away. Then Rachel would pout briefly but then quickly rewarded with another kiss.

While this dance went on Rachel deemed it only fair that she start to explore the richness of the body at her fingertips. When her hands met the warm skin of Quinn's strong back, she closed her eyes and sighed and so did Quinn.

When Quinn pressed in to kiss her and she was about to pull away again, she felt the bite and tug on her lower lip as the diva caught it between her lips and teeth and sucked on it lightly. Rachel was rewarded with low whimper.

"I thought that might get your attention." Rachel's voice carried a smirk.

"You thought right," admitted Quinn breathlessly. This time when she pushed forward to kiss Rachel, she brought her hands to her face and tangled one in the dark hair, and captured her lips and didn't pull away.

This kiss was slow to start but quickly built in intensity.

Emboldened, Rachel ran her hands across smooth shoulder blades and back down the lightly muscled arms, then down and around to ghost around the trim ribcage and finally to the sides of her breast.

Rachel reveled in the feel of the tensile feel of the muscles underneath the so very soft skin. Her hands had stilled briefly when their kissing began to get heated again, slipping her mind for a moment. The play of the muscles moving underneath her fingers reminded her, and she was hungry again.

With Quinn still hovering over her there was just enough room to bring her hands between their bodies. She brought them up to cup the sides of the supple breasts she'd been so tongue-tied over just minutes before. She felt Quinn's breath still a moment. Then she renewed their kissing with even more vigor.

As they kissed, Rachel moved her to the front and spanned her hands lightly covering her breasts; she felt the slightly raised rougher flesh against the soft parts of her palm. She circled her hands lightly causing friction experimentally teasing.

"Mmmmm" Quinn groaned into her mouth. Rachel's stomach flipped and she swallowed, caught off guard at her own reaction to hearing Quinn. She palmed them again more roughly and now felt stiff peaks. It was intoxicating. She didn't know what Quinn was feeling, and she guessed it was good, she only knew the jolt to her own core was immediate.

When her nimble fingers danced down and rolled the nipples between her fingers and thumb Quinn pulled her head back and moaned again, then she bit down on her own lip as she hissed. The taller girl swooped back and attacked her full lips, swiping her tongue the length of her lip and kissing her with increased appetite.

The blonde pressed into her, leading with her hips. Rachel continued her teasing and pulling, becoming bolder. Anything to hear more of those sounds coming from Quinn.

The next time she twisted her fingers, she felt Quinn pull away. Rachel watched mesmerized as she squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again, trying to focus her hazel eyes. They sharpened for a moment as her pupils dilated in the low light.

She let out a harsh breath and dropped her head to Rachel's shoulder. She felt her warm mouth open and bite down, followed by a kiss pressed there. The soft hair tickled her a little, and she felt warm lips at the crook of her neck now, and teeth scrape up to her ear. "Jesus…Mary…and..." gasped quietly in her ear. "What you do to me…"

The diva grinned in pride. She released her hold on Quinn, who was panting a bit now. She put her hands to her shoulders easing her upwards and away from her so she could see her beautiful body again. The hazel eyes struggled to focus on her. Dark eyes scraped down and focused elsewhere. She pulled herself up with her stomach muscles, and kissed the column of throat in front of her.

Rachel was unable to stop herself now; she needed to hear more of Quinn breathless, more of her wanting. Just more. She dipped down to breast she had been staring at, lashing out with the tip of her tongue she ran it over the hard tip once flicking it before she covered it with her lips and sucked it into her warm mouth.

"Oh my God…Rachel" It was all the blonde could utter. "God, God, Rachel, I thought we both were clueless here…" She threaded fingers into Rachel's hair now. "Where did you learn….ooh, God. Mmmmf." That was all she could get out.

Predictably pleased with herself, the diva released the one breast so she could repeat her actions on the other. She pulled away and blew on the one she'd abandoned.

"Jesus, Rachel…" Quinn quavered as more tell-tale goosebumps blossomed up her arms and arced up her neck. She was molten and throbbing now in several places.

"Mmm. Premium cable is a wonderful thing. I might have seen a thing or two. I was just testing theories?"

Quinn's body was completely on fire and everything Rachel did with her tongue traveled down and back again, leaving an entirely new aching behind. "So this is what I missed out on not having Showtime or Skinemax?" She panted it out.

"I would think that I would be the one missing out in this case." There was another "mmnff" and a bite on her shoulder that carried more intention behind it now, and she felt the weight of the other girls head resting against her chest and shoulder.

A few seconds passed as Quinn collected herself, panting hard still, while Rachel's roaming hands dragged down her back.

The blonde pulled up and leaned back down to suck on the diva's ear, hoping it would distract her for a moment. It did.

Pleased with her resourcefulness, Quinn firmly grabbed Rachel's wrists and put them above her head, holding them lightly there. The diva looked surprised and flushed, as Quinn looked down triumphantly, having regained some semblance of control.

While Rachel squirmed, Quinn raised her brow. "You've been having all the fun, I think I deserve a little, don't you?"

"What? You weren't enjoying yourself?"

Quinn blushed slightly and shrugged. "I thought that might have been evident? I just need to catch up with the rest of premium cable watching class."

"Oh?" She smirked, and Quinn found it annoyingly sexy.

"Yes, I took notes" she kissed her fiercely.

"I see…" The diva smirked again.

And even though she found it sexy, Quinn couldn't wait to silence the teasing and wipe the smirk off her face. Rachel had managed to ignite her competitive fire just as she'd stoked her arousal. She may not have Showtime, but she had spent more time than she normally cared to think about hearing tidbits or details of Santana and Brittany's trysts. It was finally going to come in handy.

And hopefully no one would lose an eye. She never did get the full explanation on how or why Santana had to wear that eye-patch for a week back in the summer.

Shaking off that thought, she continued to hold Rachel's wrists over her head on the pillow with one hand as she lowered her mouth and kissed her slowly. She traveled with her mouth up her jaw line to her ear where she whispered. "Also? I want to make you feel good too."

There was sharp intake of breath, and when the hands she held above her started to move Quinn kept them firmly but gently in place. Not so firmly that she couldn't move them if she really wanted to, but enough to communicate the message. She felt them tense again and then relax into acquiescence, at least for the moment. Quinn felt an electric flicker pass through her at that point, and it was a bit of a rush. She leaned up to make eye contact and murmured "Trust me." Rachel nodded and smiled before closing her eyes. Quinn kissed her and moved down her neck placing small kisses there.

Settling down fully on top of her diva, she kissed her again, in no hurry.

She had one leg between the Rachel's thighs now, and let her hips ease forward, connecting with her a tantalizing deliberateness, dragging her hips upwards at an angle until the smaller girl gasped and tensed upwards.

The second time she moved forward the brunette lifted her quad so that it hit Quinn in just the right place and they both gasped.

She repeated the motion and looked down into now open eyes. She held her gaze, almost primal in its intensity as she eased away, but those dark eyes fluttered and closed tight as Quinn eased back in and they ground slowly into each other.

"Jesus, holy….Quinn", she mumbled nonsense.

The thrusts were starting to feel too good now, and she needed to back down a notch. She didn't have her own personal Mail Man mantra, but if she kept going, she was going to need one. She wasn't much better than Finn was after all. And they weren't even naked. Why weren't they naked? She should remedy that. Apparently, thoughts of Finn, even ever so brief ones, pulled her just enough out of the haze of yearning that had been building between her legs.

She wanted to make Rachel feel good, and right now it was her own heat that was driving her. She slid lithely back and away from the warmth reluctantly. The air felt cool on the thin layer of sweat that had started to form between their sliding bodies. A small noise of disappointment came from below her. Quinn smiled to herself, glad to see evidence that it wasn't just her getting more aroused by the second.

When Rachel looked at her questioningly, she gave her best cocky cheerleader look and fell on her again, catching herself with her hands. She was gratified to hear the moan ripped from the singer when she closed her mouth over the dark rosy nipple. She heard sharp creaking from above and glanced up to see where the noise had come from. Rachel shrugged, her hands wrapped around the square slats in the IKEA type bed. "It was either this or your hair. You pick."

"Good choice", Quinn agreed and grinned.

"I thought you'd approve." Her dark eyes were merry with humor.

Quinn slowly eased the tip of her tongue out, knowing she was being watched. She looked up, locking her gaze as she moved from one pebbled tip across to the other. When she reached it, she pulled it taut into her mouth, all the while watching Rachel's eyes. They were amused still, but when she dragged her teeth across delicately, Quinn gleefully watched the amusement disappear as they rolled back in her head, and grinned smugly with no little pride as she watched dark head drop back on the pillow. She felt the body below her rise and fall with rapid breaths. _Thank you for over sharing Brittany S. Pierce. _

"I told you. I took notes…" she chuckled and teased verbally while she continued to tease physically with her fingers.

"That… that material wasn't covered," the brunette said almost petulantly. Quinn knew diva didn't like being one-upped anymore than she did herself.

"Are you complaining?" Quinn queried in a sultry but sweet voice.

"God no" was the answer guttural answer heaved out.

She trailed one hand down the tight stomach til she felt skin give way to cloth. She stopped a moment, and felt the hips below her jump slightly forward eagerly. She took a breath and trailed her hands further down, still over the shorts. Down to where she could feel the heat radiating. She pressed down and then back up some. She heard a groan and another creak of the slats. She grazed her fingers lightly over the warm soft area, taking her best guess, and moved in slight circles. Judging by the jump of the hips, she was close enough to count.

"God, God no. Not complaining" the singer rasped again after another creak of wood.

_Why are we not naked again?_ She wondered only to herself. _We should fix that._

Quinn moved up like a cat and kissed her languidly. Then she reached for the hands still tugging at the slats above their heads. She unwrapped the small fingers carefully from their death grip. She pulled them to her lips and kissed them, and then she kissed the inside of both wrists.

"Glad to hear it." She took the puffy bottom lip between lips and tugged on it, letting it pop out her mouth as she moved away and down.

"I don't believe this material was covered either" she added and moved lower down between her thighs, pulling just at the corner of the black shorts. She exposed some skin and placed a kiss there.

Rachel leaned up on her elbow and looked down, her mouth curved into a smile.

"Wow. Quinn, I had no idea you were such a suck up. You've already got an A don't you know? Ooooh Okay then."

* * *

**Reviews and comments are much appreciated, all of them! Especially since I am certainly no expert at this, as fluffy banter is more my oeuvre and not so much the sexytimes. But I'm trying! Skip to 29 if you've had enough... Really!  
**

**Also, to get back 'in the mood' to write this part, I had to dig out an oldie but goodie. 'Drive' by Melissa Ferrick.**** That did it… hey, I spent a good part of my afternoon crammed into our bathroom with three whippets and two cats (because there were tornado warnings and severe storms...) I needed an epic change of attitude after that. Did I mention there was also a litter box in there? **


	27. Chapter 27

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up has already aired.  
**Rated:** M

**A/N: Thank you all for all your lovely reviews. They make it easier and more fun to write, thank you all!**

**A/N: Shorter chapter I know, but I had to do some emotional housecleaning. And next is already in the works, so don't be too disappointed, I just had to find a stopping point, sorry if don't like the one I picked...**

**A/N Feel free to skip right over this to Chapter 29, where the plot picks up again. You will have missed nothing except the gory details... ****Is anyone familiar with the childrens' book 'The Monster at the End of this Book'? This is how I feel now! Really, if you turn the page, and the next for that matter, you are *going* to see some stuff. You've been warned...  
**

**

* * *

**

Quinn ran her tongue across the skin she slowly exposed as she eased the shorts down just an inch. She held the elastic down and dipped her tongue down. Her cheeks were burning and she wanted to grin when she heard the groan and creek of wood above her again.

A set of fingers dove into her hair moving restlessly without any purpose.

The rush Quinn felt now, a little scared, a little nervous, was overwhelmingly and almost made her squirm. She felt powerful. Like she could make anything happen here.

Little warning blips in the back of her mind went off.

_Powerful? Anything? Wait. Just wait a minute here. Just. Wait.  
_

She dropped her head and turned it into the bend at the dancer's hip and thigh, and took a deep breath meant to steady herself. Instead, the heady smell of skin and Rachel filled her. And it was anything but calming. She closed her fist on the excess material of the shorts in her hand, trying to ground herself. Still holding the material, she wrenched her herself away from some half-perceived brink she was standing on.

"Rachel?" she whispered, but it came out almost like a croak. It was a strained sound. It was killing her to stop just at that moment. But she just had to. The rise and fall of shallow breaths was the only noise.

"Yes?"

She sucked her breath again, full to overflowing with something she couldn't explain. She felt the full weight of where she'd been heading.

"What? Is everything okay?"

"I…I am…" She pulled away with an effort moved up the soft skin to look her in the eyes. She licked her lips once, her breathing was heavy and almost hoarse. She ran her hands over her own arms. Her eyes felt bright with intense awareness as she looked into Rachel's eyes.

She could see puzzlement and a bit of insecurity flaring there. More than a bit really. A lot now. She hurried to dispel that, smiling a little sheepishly. She looked down took an almost normal breath and her brow furrowed.

Rachel watched, unsure. When the blonde head moved again and she looked up, there was an openness on display Rachel had rarely, no never, seen on that particular face.

"I… Just. Okay. Well. Believe me. Look. You see?" Quinn growled. She wasn't making any sense.

She put her palm to her forehead and dug in for a moment while Rachel watched her silently trying to make words come out.

"You have to believe me when I tell you I had no idea I could be this powerfully and physically attracted to anyone. At all. Like ever. Much less… another girl."

Rachel's stomach dropped. This didn't sound good. It sounded like a Quinn about to bolt. She wilted inside a bit. A small bitter part surfaced in Rachel, and she was surprised the Cheerio was even going bother to say anything at all, rather than pulling on clothes and diving out the window in a panic. She sighed at the uncharitable, but realistic thoughts.

Quinn heard the sigh and saw the look on her face, very glad the words were at least starting to flow again. She hurried to explain herself, hoping it made sense to the wounded looking girl.

"Rachel. I'm getting to the point that I may…not to be able to stop myself." She looked up, embarrassed. "No. Strike that. I am not going to _want_ to stop myself."

Rachel's stomach stopped lurching, and the tightness her chest abated with those words. She watched the struggling blonde, waiting for her to continue.

Her face was now dead earnest as she continued. "But I will. If you ask me to, I will. I promise I will." She exhaled sharply. "I needed to say that. I just…wanted you to hear that. To know that."

Dark eyes shone up at her, concerned. Quinn narrowed hers in concentration, then looked down again and spoke evenly, almost distantly, looking at the pictures on the wall, Waldo next to the bed, finally setting on the patch of pillow next to the dark head. Anywhere but directly at Rachel.

"Here's the thing Rachel. I went along with something I wish I hadn't once. I never said no. I could have. Puck would never have forced…." She stopped herself and finally made eye contact again. "Look. I should have stopped it. And I just don't want you to feel...like you can't say something. I don't know. If we...keep going. And you don't want... Just promise me you'll tell me Rachel."

Rachel's heart melted a little when she heard that.

_Am I really falling for so quickly? _

She sat up enough to reach out and tuck a stray tendril of blonde hair behind an ear. It was a useless gesture considering the disheveled state of the golden locks, but it gave her a good excuse to touch the girl. Comfort her. She did it again, and rubbed her cheekbone softly.

She didn't want to do or say anything to disturb the fragile reality they had been moving in up until that moment.

But she considered Quinn's state of mind and wanted to ease it. She had to say something.

Hoping like hell that this was the way to go about it, she eased herself into a sitting position. When Quinn's face started to fall into disappointment before switching to a neutral face, she worried it had given her the wrong impression.

She reached quickly for her hand. "No, sweet—Quinn. Wait, hear me out. Give me one minute of vintage overly talkative Rachel time?"

Quinn's face lost its blank look, replaced by puzzlement. She nodded and shrugged. "Sure..."

"You can time me. Sixty seconds on the clock. Aaaand go." Rachel tried to lighten the look on Quinn's face. She had to be satisfied with a small twitch at the corner of her mouth.

"Okay Quinn, I've thought about this as best I could considering how unprecedented, how new _this_ is."

She gestured between them, and Quinn raised her brows in a 'go on' gesture. She quirked her lips, unable to believe how easily Rachel could still manage to string together intelligent sentences even now. She felt like an incoherent over stimulated hot mess.

"Well, I have come to the conclusion that while it is true that I am surprisingly and suddenly irresistibly attracted to you in the most carnal and lascivious way possible right now, beyond what I even thought was possible. Like, epically. Like I want to crawl inside you to get closer to your skin…"

She looked at Quinn again. She seemed to have seized on the 'while' part of her sentence, and was making assumptions that the 'while' was going to be followed by qualifier. Rachel saw the look of doubt and rushed to grab her hands and squeeze them and reassure her.

"My _point_ is that _while_ it must be abundantly clear that I am quite suddenly lusting after you like nobody's business, out of nowhere, it has _also_ become apparent to me that I have also developed, well, feelings for you. Warm feelings. Pleasant tingly feelings. And not just in the last hour. "

Hazel eyes looked surprised, skeptical, vulnerable and worried at the same time, which was impressive. Rachel hurried on.

"I indulged in some surreptitious self-reflection earlier this evening, and I do mean before we embarked on our amorous explorations."

Quinn's eyes crinkled just a little in humor at the 'Vintage Rachel speak.'

"…And I had already come to the incontrovertible conclusion that I have apparently developed an emotional attachment to you as well as a physical attraction. And I do mean beyond friendly team mate emotional attachment." She clarified.

That brought her back. Quinn glanced back; her mouth had dropped slightly open, nonplussed.

"I have not yet been able to discern precisely what it is that is driving _you_, personally, here Quinn. However, I _am_ satisfied your intention is not to hurt me. That is not to say one or both of us could not get hurt here. But…"

She paused and took a breath and leaned forward.

"Just at this moment? I don't care. If I must, I can and will chalk it up to the natural inclination of teenagers to explore their sexual boundaries." She sighed, her mouth pulling into half smile, half-grimace. "If I must. I will be okay with that."

Quinn moved and opened her mouth to speak, but Rachel hurried on.

"I know I have gone well over my time limit, but one more thing. And it is important."

Quinn cut her off. "Hang on. I was just going to say that, regardless of…whatever you…" She struggled some more before she continued. "Or _we_…may feel… or want here… I thought you wanted to wait—"

Rachel squeezed her hands. Her heart had clenched when she'd heard Quinn say 'we', and she was impatient to get out what she had left to say.

"Yes, I know I have said in the past that I wanted to wait until I was twenty five and in love with my co-star on Broadway. What? Don't give me that look. It seemed a sensible age."

Quinn rolled her eyes, unable to stop herself.

Rachel ignored the look and continued resolutely. "It is. It was. And well? It was an easy to thing to say when nothing around me was ever tempting enough for me to change my plans. But I am not so dense as to not realize that my 'dream' scenario would really just be me giving somebody else something largely 'symbolic' that our patriarchal society prizes for whatever reason. But you know what? My heretofore proposed and idealized 'first' is not going to own me, symbolically or otherwise. Especially not all because…he, and yes I did rather assume it would be a 'he', had done all the right things, proposed the right way, and jumped through hoops just so he could eventually make grand, improbable romantic movie love to me."

A tiny amused huff escaped Quinn. She covered her mouth and apologized with her eyes. Rachel shook her head and rolled her eyes before smiling self-deprecatingly and continuing.

Quinn noted her slightly defensive posture, and thought it was cute but didn't interrupt her to say so.

"Now. As I was saying. Right now, this? You? It is something I want. Really, really want. It isn't something I'd be settling for." She shrugged, a little awkward now. "I only ever wanted my first…experience to be well, special. This feels special." She caught Quinn's eye. "Even if it never happens again." Her measured speech fell apart, and she smiled a little ruefully. "I want you. And…I trust you, Quinn."

She looked at her blonde would-be, could-be lover, who was very obviously trying not to let her lips tug into a smile.

Quinn was a little relieved and a lot happy. She didn't want to think beyond this very moment. At least not yet. She smiled and looked down, overwhelmed, and whispered to the space in front of them.

"I'm not sure you should. But I'm glad. Thank you for saying that. All of it."

She took a deep breath and held it, looking for something to do with her hands. She missed touching skin. She looked up and the smile reached all the way to her eyes now.

Rachel had actually raised her hand, as if she was in class and had the right answer. Quinn looked puzzled and amused. She pointed to her to 'call on' the diva. "Yes Ms. Berry?"

Rachel tilted her head. "Ooh, ooh, there's this too! Let's not forget, the normally applicable adverse physical consequences…are not really an issue here, right?"

_So any consequences will be emotional, not physical_, was the unspoken response in the Cheerio's head.

_And my God, you're falling for her._

The tiny brunette shrugged adorably, and Quinn grinned indulgently, letting that particular thought slip for now. "Well, I'll give you that, Berry. Gold Star for you?"

Rachel lifted her chin proudly and grinned with self-satisfaction, having made her case. She noticed the Quinn's hands were still restless and reached for one and rubbed it lightly and gripped it. She looked again to the top of the bed, and moved again to her reclining position there, the hand slipped through her fingers as she eased just out of reach. Keeping her eyes locked and steady, she hooked her fingers into the waistband of her shorts and underwear and slowly pulled pulled them down. She could see Quinn was holding her breath, and was unsurprised to the other girl was biting and sucking on her poor lips again. Trying not to smirk at that, she bent her knees and discarded the last of her clothes beside the bed. She leaned back, and just as she had not long ago, she crooked her finger, beckoning.

Sitting up straight, Quinn took a deep breath and looked at how beautiful, bright, shiny and edible Rachel looked to her right now. She started to shake her head, grinning hugely, as she untangled her legs from the Indian style she had adopted for Rachel's soliloquy. She looked down at her sweatpants and back up again. Stepping off to the side of the bed she quickly untied the draw string and in a graceful motion bent at the waist and slid her remaining garments to the floor before stepping out of them efficiently.

Oddly, she felt more more exposed standing up than she did on top of Rachel, she quickly crawled on the bed, sexy or not, and moved to poise herself over Rachel's heavenly form. She looked down at her in awe, still hungry.

"I promise Quinn. I am fine. I am waaaay more than fine. If I…or you, for that matter, have a problem, we'll just say the word. No questions asked. I'm just trying to live right here. Right now. " She smiled, and then turned serious, cupping the blonde's face in her hands. Her voice low, she spoke. "Be here with me. Now."

Quinn leaned into the touch and closed her eyes when she felt fingers trace her jaw and the line of her eyebrows with her thumbs. She heard her whisper once more.

"I trust you."

After a deep breath, Quinn opened her eyes and they both smiled, Rachel a little shyly. Quinn pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and shrugged before speaking quietly. "Okay then. I'm glad you trust me. That's as much a gift as…anything else. To me." She knew it was true as the words left her mouth. She tilted her head to the side and looked down. She bowed down enough to touch her forehead to Rachel's and quietly assured her. "I trust you too." She rested there for a moment before she pulled back up, cocksure and confident Quinn resurfacing.

"And I hope you'll trust me then when I say that right now, everything in me is screaming for me to touch you." She switched to her serious look again. "I just had to know it was okay."

Rachel nodded. Then she arched an eyebrow and trailed her hand down to Quinn's hip and dragged her nails down across her thigh, earning her a shudder. "I'm pretty certain my body heard you."

She pulled the Quinn's head down and connected with her lips. She couldn't say she actually saw fireworks behind her eyes, but there were definitely swirling colors. Magentas and greens.

To illustrate the point and her intentions in general, she took hold of Quinn's right hand and pulled it between their bodies. The taller girl pulled back a little, giving her room. She wasn't exactly sure what she was doing, and she looked at Rachel for clarification.

She wanted to answer the unspoken question in those hazel eyes, and to emphasize everything she had just said. She looked up at Quinn who had pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, pressing down hard as she watched their hands. Rachel was surprised to feel she had done the same with her own lip, and was biting down hard without even realizing it.

The blonde's glance alternated between their joined hands and Rachel's eyes, back and forth. She could feel a tremble in both their hands now. She pulled them to her lips and kissed her fingers. "You jump I jump" she whispered. Then she guided both their hands between her thighs. She held them there a moment and closed her eyes briefly at the contact. When she opened them, she could see Quinn's eyes were now closed tightly, and her brow was furrowed almost painfully.

Quinn sucked in her breath and moaned low in her throat at the wet heat she could feel at her fingertips.

Rachel pressed down on Quinn's fingers with gentle pressure, sliding them downwards into soft folds a little and back again, before releasing them. Her breath caught as Quinn's hand flexed a little. Rachel pulled her own hand away and ran it up her lover's flexed forearm to her shoulder.

"I told you my body heard you, you didn't I?"

Quinn could only draw a shaky breath and nod.

**Again, Sorry this is a bit shorter and stops abruptly, but more later, I promise. Had to get some plot/thought process out there, so now I feel better and can, well move them along to a more satisfying (to me, hopefully you all too) time in general. : )**


	28. Chapter 28

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_I think we can remove the 'eventual' and just say: Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Season 2, A/U after The Rocky Horror Glee Show  
**Rated:** M for language and sexual situations…pretty detailed ones this chapter.

**A/N: Thank you all for all your lovely reviews. They make me feel like I'm not making a complete hash of this. I hope I did it justice… :/**

**A/N Feel free to skip right over this to Chapter 29, where the plot picks up again.  
**

**A/N: Okay, THIS is the monster at the end of this...er section. It's M. Just warning you. M for a reason as they say. And after this, we at last return to more…story line. I know. Hard to believe… I'll fix any glaring inconsistencies as I find them. Really! Off to take the one non-carsick dog downtown to see a dog parade. Yes. That is what I said.**

**########**

Quinn inhaled and looked down, her face a mix arousal and anxiousness. "I have no idea what I'm doing here, so just please…"

Rachel was charmed even further with the look and the disclaimer.

"What you're doing now feels good."

Mildly reassured, Quinn continued exploring, fumbling light touches at first that grew with confidence as Rachel encouraged her with sounds or movements. Watching the little pants of breath and feeling the beginning of a more consistent roll of the hips beneath her, Quinn felt again that surge of exhilaration come over her that she felt before she had stopped herself earlier.

She was just full of the rush knowing that the other girl wanted her. She slowed her movements again and looked down between them. There was something else she wanted to do. She looked at Rachel; her eyes alternated between closed entirely and half-lidded.

Quinn pressed her lips to the shell of an ear and ran her tongue slowly there. "I'll be back."

There was a questioning whimper and a creak so she moved to the other ear to answer the unvoiced question. "Teenage inclination to test sexual boundaries" she teased and reassured her. It was as much to reassure herself as anything if she was honest. She was nervous now. But her desire overruled it quickly. She stole a last kiss and repeated herself. "I'll be back."

Then she slid down the trim lines of her body and moved to the belly-button she had only briefly seen before and dipped her tongue in. The flat stomach tightened and she heard a little giggle. Her lips curved in a smile against the honey skin. She traced light touches of her lips up to a breast but stayed away from the darker raised flesh for the moment, instead drawing slow lazy wet circles and shapes all around it. The singer's breath would catch and hold each time she neared a peak, and release with a small, disappointed sound when she would back way.

Strong fingers once again found their way to her hair sometimes pulling, sometimes stroking. They would stop, and then grip harder. Quinn noted smugly that the hands in her hair were not trying to pull her head up for a kiss. Instead they seemed more intent on holding her in place. And frankly, that stoked her even more.

Pulling away from her, she now slid her whole body lower to settle between the toned thighs. She ran her hands up the sensitive parts on the inside, feeling them twitch. She pushed gently to make room for herself as she leaned forward within striking distance. She wanted to give herself only a moment to take in the wonderfully erotic view. Here she was, situated between those ridiculously sexy legs. A naked, incredibly alluring Rachel was spread out before her. She wanted to take it all in. The play of the diva's hands, one nervously resting on her stomach, one running a hand through her dark hair. Completely black eyes watched her. Licking her suddenly dry feeling lips, she looped her arms under bent legs and scooted forward. And there she paused.

It was tantalizing. Quinn looked up one more time and then back down.

And then, she froze.

It was ridiculous.

She was centimeters from satisfying her overwhelming curiosity and desire, both of which were off the charts at this point. And she was frozen.

_Quinn Fabray doesn't choke_, she chastised herself sternly and desperately.

_Quinn Fabray has no fucking clue as to what she's doing, so give us a break_, she retorted.

Thankfully, there was a soft voice from above her. "Quinn? Don't do anything you don't want to do. We talked about this—"

And that was all it took. Quinn snapped out of her state of suspended animation, back in control, back in charge of herself.

"Quinn, you really don't have to—oh God. Ohmygod."

She felt the hand instantly back at her head, fingers weaving into her hair, and there was a screech of protest from wooden headboard.

The doubt in the singer's voice had spurred her. She'd inhaled and her head swirled with lust. One more breath and she'd unceremoniously surged into action with all the pent up ache and need that had been steadily building, finally running her soft tongue gently but deliberately over the wet folds from bottom to top. She repeated that several times, getting used to the taste which was something she'd been wondering and nervous about. It was different, but not at all unpleasant she determined.

She was a little embarrassed when she heard an actual sound come from her throat. It was that 'huh' sound that one makes when they've learned something unexpected, even pleasant. A 'Who knew?' kind of sound.

Ignoring the brief feeling of embarrassment, (after all, who cared right now), she continued to move her tongue and lips, testing here, tasting there. With the state she had worked Rachel into, it was not difficult to find the spot that would probably appreciate the most attention. She nudged and flitted, tugged with her lips coaxing, gauging what seemed to please the most. When she sucked the bundle of heavy flesh into her lips gently running her tongue over it, she'd about been bucked off the bed. She had a brief flash of Santana and her eye-patch before she shifted that image away.

"Easy there trigger," she'd laughed and teased settling in again, rubbing her head. Rachel looked mortified. "Sorry," she said meekly. "It's just whatever you did wa— Oh. My Fucking God." Her head dropped back to the pillow with a thump.

Quinn lifted her head, and grinned. "I didn't know I could turn you into such a potty mouth."

"Yes. Something you should be very proud of no dou—" She hissed. "Fuck me that feels good."

Quinn grinned evilly into her, dropping low and pressing with her tongue exploring in other ways for a few moments. It wasn't long before the hips began to move with a more deliberate rhythm along with her, and Quinn thought she must be doing something right and increased her pace as she prepared to add her fingers to the mix.

But then she heard Rachel plead quietly. "Please. Quinn. Up here, come up here. I want you here."

Pressing one more kiss to her center, Quinn pulled away reluctantly, sliding upwards, she passed her hand over her lips and jaw, removing traces of moisture. She placed drive by kisses on her stomach breasts and throat.

"I'm here." Quinn smiled down at her.

Rachel looked at her and smiled, breathless. "I just wanted you here." She pulled her in for a deep kiss.

"You're beautiful Rachel." And she was.

Quinn pulled away and moved to her side. She ducked her head to the inviting breast just for a moment. She reached down with her hand and thumb as the path of her lips moved. She closed her mouth over the hardened nipple just as she slid two of her fingers down towards the slick warmth, slipping just the tips of her fingers in gently. The response was immediate, and the small frame heaved as she groaned. She pulled them out bringing the moisture to the top of her cleft, circling just barely over her clit. She moved her head back level with her brown eyes now, which were hooded and unfocused. "Are you sure, Rachel?" Her voice low, but loud enough to cut through fog.

The eyes struggled open to focus.

"I'm sure." Rachel nodded seriously and smiled .

Quinn moved forward with a kiss, as she pressed with one finger slowly but firmly into the velvet warmth. She felt walls clench in on her digits, and there were two gasps. There was a hard grip at her shoulders as she pushed forward. She looked down at the grimace on the girls face and slowed letting her get used to the initial unfamiliar discomfort.

"Are you okay." Quinn queried.

"Yes" she breathed out. "Just a little…new. This whole virginity business is simply ridiculous. Frankly, between ballet and dancing, and your gymnastics we probably both ruptured our hymens long—".

Quinn stopped her movement. "You're killin' me here, Rach. Killin me. Can you put please put Vintage Rachel away for the night? I'm trying to do something here." She shook her head, rolling her eyes and grinned and kissed her.

"And by the way, be that as it may and all…Puck, well, it hurt like hell. And I just don't want you to hurt."

Rachel smiled, and pulled her to kiss her again. "Sorry, please, please continue."

Quinn grunted her playful disapproval. "Too many words again." But she moved slowly again, bringing her thumb into play, trying to make sure she was touching her in all the places that she thought would feel good.

Rachel breathed in. "The discomfort is minimal, and…now" she leaned up and captured her lips. "Now it is starting to feel…amazing."

"You feel amazing" It was all Quinn could manage in reply. The low keening sound and the jump of the hips under her confirmed she was doing something right, and it sent blood rushing to her head and throbbing all over her body, making her dizzy. She heard the wood creak in protest again and the fingers in her hair grabbed reflexively.

She kept a steady slow pace, as they both got used to the feel. After a moment, she pulled out and eased back to her entrance with two fingers now. She paused and looked at Rachel who nodded. Easing back to hover over her again, bracing herself with one arm.

Rachel moved her death grip on the headboard to wrap her fingers around her wrist there. Quinn noted the clenching fingers there and the rhythmic way she rubbed her wrist with her thumb. It was spasmodic sometimes, but it was also loosely in time with her thrusts.

Quinn felt her own desire intensifying and dove down for a kiss, barely successful at keeping her pace. But she needed that kiss to calm herself so she could stay focused on Rachel.

But then she felt light fingers moving up and down her back, and then to her hip, sliding easily with the sweat that was building on them and between them. The death grip on her braced wrist abated and Quinn felt both hands skirting Quinn's torso again, going straight to her breasts, molding them with her fingers and thumbs.

When Quinn groaned into their kiss, the hands dropped further down to her hips and took up station there. Rachel moaned a little when she raised her knee and brought her thigh into delicious contact with Quinn, feeling the wetness there. The she pulled hard on the hips and thrust up with her thigh grinding into her core. When Quinn heard whimpering this time, she realized it was her own.

"Jesus…Fuck. Rachel. Distracting me." She moaned almost peevishly. She groaned and lost her rhythm completely, her thrusts slowing.

Rachel breathed out. "I wanted you to catch up." She dropped her knee and moved her hand down to touch Quinn delicately, moving fluidly in the slickness. Quinn felt the diva moan and her walls clench around her fingers, as she responded to what she was feeling, to Quinn's own arousal. They were feeding off each other now.

They both caught their breath as Rachel spread the wetness. Quinn dropped her head in defeat as Rachel moved to the bundle of nerves at the top, and concentrated there, circling and coaxing her along.

"Okay. That. That feels…keep doing that." Quinn snapped her jaw shut reflexively and hissed out, before she amended herself. "Please?"

She inhaled again and adjusted her position slightly to accommodate. She slowly began moving her fingers as before.

Their world was breathing, moans and pants now. Quinn did everything she could to wall herself off from what Rachel was doing with her fingers, but it was almost impossible. She increased the tempo of her own fingers, trying to outrun the wave threatening to crash over her. The movement of Rachel's hips lost it's rhythm as she thrust more quickly. She buried her head in the crook of her neck, blocking out the burning in her arm, and less successfully the quickening of her own want and the tightness in her stomach. The clutching at her shoulder and the nails digging into her shoulder blade gave her something else to focus on for a few seconds.

She curled her wrist and made sure she was grinding with her thumb and the heel of palm with every thrust. She heard gasping words in her hear. "God. God. Jesus. Don't stop." The relief at hearing those words spurred Quinn. One, two, three more thrusts and Rachel arched, and Quinn felt muscles gripping her fingers. The body below her went rigid and moaned. "I'm—ummnnf. God." The fingers had stopped moving against her, and Quinn smirked. She wanted to come, desperately. But she'd wanted to make Rachel come even more. She straddled the apparently spent diva and licked a rock hard nipple, grinning cheekily to herself.

Rachel shuddered, stirring, still breathing hard. Very hard. The sheen of sweat was still all over her, and her hair was damp against her face. Her eyes snapped open, hazy still. She caught Quinn's self-satisfied smirk. She cocked an eyebrow.

"You won, Quinn. You won." She murmured. Then she started to move her fingers against Quinn again. She was still shaking with an occasional twitch. "But you know what?" She watched Quinn's eyes as she swayed on her knees at the feelings Rachel was producing. "We Berry's? We think everyone should feel like a winner."

Quinn arched a brow a little too smugly, still patting herself on the back, even as her breathing stayed soft and shallow in her worked up state. Rachel made a 'tsk tsk' sound, and she chuckled lazily and her Cheshire Cat grin went unnoticed as Quinn let her eyes close just a little.

Rachel noted this and made her move. Quinn's sharp intake of breath was music to her ears as she moved lightning quick to slide down underneath between the blonde's thighs.

"Where are you…What are you do—? You're not not, wait. Now. Sweet Mother of...hey. Oh. My. Ohmygod..."

#####

It was not long before the tidal wave she'd been foolishly attempting to outrun was at her heels again. Giving in to it finally, she capitulated. Hands full of dark hair and headboard, Quinn let herself drown in it, and floated in to shore boneless, exhausted.

Fortunately, for both of them, it turned out IKEA makes a very solid bed frame.

########################

Quinn lay on the bed breathing hard, looking at the ceiling. Her chest rose irregularly. She wasn't sure who won. It was a tie.

She looked over at Rachel, about to speak.

Rachel tried to sound nonchalant as she cut her off.

"Premium cable, Quinn. Premium cable."

"Seriously? They show THAT on Showtime?"

"Well, not exactly. But enough to get the…idea I suppose."

"Ah." She had more questions, but they floated away for now.

"Was it a good idea?" The voice was inexplicably anxious.

"Uh. I don't know where it came from, and I don't think it was Showtime, and at the moment I really don't care. So…what do you think?" She answered with a husky voice and a laugh and looked over at her sleepily. The brunette was laying on her side, hands tucked under her cheek, looking at her with bright eyes. She looked improbably anxious and innocent and adorable all at once. Especially considering what she had been doing just moments ago. Quinn opened her arm wide.

"Come here, you little deviant." She said it with both appreciation and affection. Rachel rolled her eyes and smiled bashful now. She scooted into her side, after reaching for covers to pull over them. She nestled warmly into her side, tucking her head under Quinn's chin and resting on her chest. Quinn bent over and kissed the top of her head, suddenly exhausted beyond belief. She whispered to the dark head. "I don't know. I win, er…I mean you win. But I feel like I won. I'm just. Wow."

"Let's call it a tie" came the reply to her midsection.

"Works for me."

They lay in silence for a moment, their heart rates and breathing slowed to normal and they were both drowsy.

"Rachel?"

"Hmm?"

She took a light breath. "Do you regret—"

Rachel raised her head and cut her off flatly. "No. I could reply with a sly 'what do you think?' But I don't want to leave anything open to interpretation. You get an unequivocal no regrets from me."

Quinn exhaled the breath she didn't know she was holding. And now she knew what was coming. She was struggling to stay awake now and she knew the inevitable question was coming. Instead of making the other girl ask it, she made a shy offering. "Me neither." She felt the breath Rachel released flutter against her abdomen. "I don't know what it means tomorrow. But I don't regret it."

She looked at Rachel's clock. The blue numbers said 3:57 a.m. With the remnants of her consciousness starting to fall away in pieces, she eased Rachel gently and reached out to tap the light off. She settled back in, gathering Rachel in with her. Then she had a jarring thought. She shook Rachel and murmured. "Hey. What time does your alarm go off? Your dads don't wake you with breakfast in bed do they?"

The head on her chest jerked out of an almost sleep state.. She heard a sleepy mumble. "Eight o'clock. And thank God no dads." Relieved, she stroked the dark hair for a moment. There was a sigh as she felt the weight of the almost asleep girl become heavier in a pleasant way.

Quinn relaxed at that, still stroking the hair absently, and she tipped over into the most pleasant dreamless abyss of sleep.

###########################

**Read and Review if you care to, as it would be much appreciated. It makes me feel good, and I really appreciate the feedback. I think I might be as exhausted as they are. But I can see the light of day. And plot again! Or well, at least clothes.  
**

**So yes. Huzzah! We can now we return you to your regularly scheduled daytime activities and plot. Next chapter in the works already.  
**


	29. Chapter 29

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_I think we can remove the 'eventual' and just say: Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Season 2, A/U  
**Rated:** Back to T now I think, maybe M for language?

**A/N If you skipped any chapters, welcome back to the land of plot. : ) and more 'T' rated at that...  
**

**A/N: Thank you thank your lovely reviews an comments. Thank you, thank you! I hope they don't go away because I've gotten back to plot, lol. I'm off on about 5 day hiatus as I will be *gasp* (and that was not the fun kind of *gasp*…) working onsite. I plan to catch up on reading other peoples fics though! Feel free to drop me a line or question or suggestions, as I have a week of driving and working and pondering.**

**################################  
**

Other than a snort here and a twitch there, Quinn slept like the proverbial rock.

That is until eight a.m. At that time, the clock two feet from her right ear sputtered and then burst into life. Well it quietly spoke into life in an incredibly calm, soothing and slightly tinny voice.

"_You're listening to WGLE-FM. 90.7. This is WEEKEND EDITION from NPR News. I'm Liane Hansen. President Obama is back in Washington today after what he called a successful summit of NATO leaders in Portugal…"_

She blinked once. Twice. Then again. The weight on her chest made her look down. She was naked, and there was a tousled head of hair chestnut hair. There was a warm cheek pressed to her breast. There was moist breath exhaling regularly onto it.

Then it all came flooding back. She was in Rachel Berry's sturdy IKEA bed. There was NPR (of course) on the radio alarm. They never got to hear that 'talk' portion of Public Broadcasting. Her dad had always turned it after the classical music programming was finished.

_By all means, keep focusing on the important things here. Like the particular radio programming preferences of the person in whose bed you've just woken. Really. Keep it up._

_Oh dear God._ The heat rose from her stomach and radiated outwards to all her extremities at warp speed. Her face felt like Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer's looked. Faster and faster, her chest rose shallowly, as she tamped down at the panic she was feeling.

_Deep breaths Quinn. I don't think this what they meant by gay panic._

She inhaled as deeply and as unobtrusively as she could, as it was clear that Rachel was still safely and happily in dreamland.

Unlike herself.

She inhaled the scent of the vanilla pear of the singer's shampoo, and immediately images started flooding her brain. Her mouth quirked at the corners, smiling despite herself, but she flushed with heat even more. And she didn't even think that was possible. She put her free hand that wasn't wrapped around the sleeping form on her chest to her mouth and touched her fingers to her lips lightly. Then she smiled into them, hardly able to contain a stupid, silly grin. They carried her scent still. She smiled again. Then she ignored the feeling that that was odd thought.

The radio murmured on.

"…_President Karzai has repeatedly clashed in public with NATO over strategy and tactics. Recently, he said night raids by foreign forces fueled the insurgency…" _

Someone other than the announcer picked up the story. She couldn't focus on it though. She was too busy smiling secretly to herself. And then she realized and her cheeks hurt from smiling. Actually, as she took stock, quite a bit of her hurt, in a pleasant post workout kind of way.

And then the shallow breaths again as her brain was assaulted with images and memories and sounds.

She was feeling equal parts panic to equal parts exhilaration. Added to that was a healthy dose of something that rode between embarrassment and pride and mortification.

_You slept with Rachel Berry. You…slept with Rachel Berry. You slept with…Rachel Berry._

No matter how she phrased it to herself, it wasn't quite getting through.

_Please. I thought we didn't lie to ourselves so much anymore._ _You didn't 'sleep' with Rachel Berry.  
I'll rephrase your Honor. Fine. I had sex with Rachel Berry. _

The rejoinder was immediate.

_You might as well say you got to know Rachel Berry in a Biblical sense._ _Prude._

She mocked herself some more, digging at bit more in the dirt.

_Let's get real here. You fucked her brains out. Or well, she fucked your brains out._

_It was a tie,_ she reminded herself snappishly. At this point, she almost gave in to the urge to giggle maniacally. Except she didn't want to disturb the warm softly snuffling form that was resting on her. God, but she was tired. But her mind kept picking at her, and picking.

_You fucked like lesbian bunnies._

That just sounded wrong and she protested_. _

_We did NOT fuck like lesbian bunnies. We...we made…crap. I don't know what we did, but we did not fuck like lesbian bunnies.  
If you say so, Q._

She wondered, and not for not the first time, why her subconscious voice always sounded like Santana in her head. It made it that much mores galling when she had to admit the voice was right.

_Brittany would have said you and Rachel Berry were going at it like lesbian ducks. Does that really sound any better?  
Point taken._

She brought her hand slowly to her face to scratch an itch on her nose that was suddenly driving her nuts. She sighed. Specific and as yet undetermined terminology aside, she knew what had happened. What was she going to do about it? Oh Jesus. Sam. She didn't ever pretend that she was in love Sam or anything, but he was a good guy. And she had cheated on him. With Rachel Berry.

And she was so going to want to do it again.

_And it was fucking phenomenal. Lesbian bunnies and all, wasn't it?  
Yes. Fine, yes. We made sweet lesbian bunny love til the wee hours, and there were invisible fucking lesbian Unicorns bowing down and I don't know, blessing our union. Are you happy? Will you shut the fuck up now?_

Nothing came back. So she took a deep breath and listened to her own fast heavy breathing, trying to calm her runaway heart, and synchronize her breathing with the steady, even rise and fall of Rachel's breath. After a minute she was much calmer, and she allowed herself an indulgence, now that her brain shut up for two seconds. She bent her head and kissed the top of sweet smelling head, safe in the knowledge the girl was still asleep. Then she pinched the bridge of her nose and took a moment to thank God she wasn't hungover and pregnant. That was definitely on the plus side.

Rachel stirred just a bit and sighed breathily and snuggled in. Quinn's mouth quirked, smiling absently.

She relaxed into the warmth of the embrace again and looked up at the ceiling, full of feeling. She felt half-crazy at the moment. And she liked it.

Across the room a G chord flared to life from somewhere indeterminate in the corner, and then a base kicked in. Rachel jerked up with an "mmnmf", eyes wide. It was so quick that Quinn had to wrench her head away to avoid a likely split lip as the dark head thrashed into wakefulness. Instead she slammed her head against the bed frame.

"Shit." She rubbed her head and glared at Rachel and took back all the nice things she thought about the headboard not long ago. And a few she'd thought about the brunette.

_Right right, turn off the lights,  
We're gonna lose our minds tonight,  
What's the dealio?  
I love when it's all too much,  
5 a.m. turn the radio up  
Where's the rock and roll?_

The blur of form that was Rachel Barbra Berry slid out of the bed, mumbling incoherently in explanation something about "elliptical mix."

As the diminutive body flopped and lurched out of bed. Quinn stopped her glaring for a moment and started staring. She'd slowly apprised her own nakedness upon waking a few moments ago, but she'd forbidden her mind to wander to the fact that Rachel was also naked. It was bad enough she had visions of last night's enticing sugar plums dancing in her head. She didn't need to see it paraded before her again. It made her feel something very much less than gallant. However, she was not opposed to sneaking a look if it went streaking out in front of her for her perusal.

And now she saw a golden back and thighs, and those legs. Quinn squinted her eyes and nodded in appreciation_._

_Puck would be proud._

Halfway to the workout machine in question Rachel apparently realized she was completely and utterly naked.

Quinn watched amused as the gorgeous legs skidded to a halt short of their destination and start frantically back towards the bed. As Quinn had only had eyes for the legs, she didn't see the look of horror on her the singer's face. There was a fluff of sheets as she dove beneath them and covered herself with a small squeaking noise.

_Let's see_, she tallied.

_Spending the day with Rachel Berry. Cost? One vegetarian pizza, estimated at $10.99 plus tip.  
Breakfast for dinner with Rachel's oddly endearing and odd couple gay dads punctuated by a rendition of Midnight Train to Georgia and followed by poker? Estimated cost negative $10.99 at the very least.  
Making lo—fucking Rachel Berry's brains out while lesbian unicorns watch? Estimated cost unclear.  
Watching Rachel Berry wake from a dead sleep in your arms to scampering, bare ass naked across the room, only just realize it and skid to a stop a la Scooby-Doo? Priceless._

The music thumped on. It wasn't terribly loud, like it was blasting. But it was loud enough that you couldn't really just go back to sleep. She wondered absently how or what the ipod was hooked up to. Because that was indeed what it was. It was just Rachel's ipod docked near the elliptical obviously set as a secondary alarm defense and a call to elliptical arms so to speak. She quirked a smile that Rachel couldn't see, (as she was still hiding underneath the covers) imagining the diva swishing away for her workout to…whatever this was.

She wasn't familiar with the song. It was catchy, the voice sounded familiar but she couldn't place it. At least not at eight a.m. on a Sunday after about four hours of sleep post fucking like lesbian bunnies escapade. She snorted. She couldn't help it. She was losing it. She tapped her foot and listened for moment.

_Party Crasher,  
Penny Snatcher,  
Call me up if you want gangsta  
Don't be fancy, just get dancey  
Why so serious?_

_So raise your glass if you are wrong,  
In all the right ways,  
All my underdogs,_

_We will never be never be anything but loud  
And nitty gritty  
Dirty little freaks  
Won't you come on and come on and raise your glass,  
Just come on and come on and raise your glass_

Shaking her head and laughing softly, she leaned closer to the lump of bed that contained Rachel. There was just nothing like someone else losing his or her shit to make Quinn feel more stable.

"I know you're in there Rach. Why don't you come out and tell me why you're listening to a song that talks about a 'panty snatcher.'"

There was an indignant huff. "It's P!nk! She has a new single out."

There was some more movement and sheets rippled. Finally a mass of lively brown hair emerged with a face, still framed by sheets, cheeks, flaming red. "And I'll have you know she is saying 'penny snatcher' not 'panty snatcher'."

Against her will, Quinn was charmed. She covered her grin with her hand, her arms locked around her bent knees. She tapped her foot some more to the beat.

"If you say so," she lilted. "But I have to say I liked my version better." Quinn pulled a bit her lips and grinned. Then she ran her tongue and her finger tips over her lips. She was in serious need of some lip balm. Rachel's eyes watched hers, and then the head disappeared in a flurry of sheets again.

The head appeared again instantly, frowning a bit and looking self-righteous. "I happen to think the lyrics are very apropos and I identify with them. If you listen, it's about outsiders, and not caring what everyone else thinks. It's quite inspiring and uplifting in my opinion."

Quinn nodded along with the beat, smiling a little evilly now. "Wow. Dirty little freaks, huh?"

"Except for that part. I believe I have an excellent hygiene routine."

The blonde chuckled at that. "Well I'll confirm that to anyone that asks I assure you. " She looked her in the eye, arching her eyebrow in her patented way . "But...I don't know about you Rachel, but personally I feel a bit like a 'dirty little freak' this morning." She cracked the joke, actually surprised at her own levity.

Rachel blanched, but couldn't help herself and grinned a little proudly.

Quinn laughed. "Not too early for early for gallows humor after all? That's a good sign I guess. So…isn't P!nk vegan?"

Silence. "Yes she is. Or, maybe. She's at least vegetarian..."

She listened to the song to its end, giving Rachel some time. When the song switched and played two Gaga songs, and still the diva had not emerged, she'd had had enough.

"Rachel? Are you going to come out? You can't stay in there all day."

"I'm processing."

"I see. Ah. Yes, well naturally I'm completely fine with everything, so you should just hurry up and work it all out. I'll be downstairs having bacon."

The head of soft messy curls moved again and it squeaked. "You've _got_ it to be kidding me. All figured out? You?"

Quinn let her knees drop and pivoted around til onto her stomach and faced the disembodied Rachel head.

"Of course I'm kidding you, you twit."

The brown eyes looked hurt. They were different in the morning light, and a little puffy with lack of sleep. But still lovely and warm. She hadn't really studied them close in daylight before.

Quinn sighed. "Listen you silly, annoyingly, inexplicably attractive munchkin. Where is this famed Sixth Sense of yours? Because for a smart girl, you can be pretty slow sometimes."

When she got no response she started to lose patience. Patience was never her strong suit anyway. She ran her hands through her hair and swatted the bed in frustration. "Jesus. Rachel. Did it not occur to you that I might be having a wee bit of a freak out myself here? You know? Maybe I'd at least like some company for my crazy. We were both there, were we not?"

"Well, yes. "

"Well then. Why don't you come out here and join me? Unless you'd like me to stick to tried and true Quinn Fabray format here, and make all the decisions for everyone?"

There was a dramatic sigh from the lump. "You don't regret it now? This morning, do you?"

Quinn sighed back. "Do you think I should regret it? Do you want me to? Do you? Regret it that is?"

"No. No! I just…I don't know what to think. I know I don't want there to be any regrets. So no. But, I mean Finn…" She trailed off. "I regret that…aspect. I mean, what about Sam…?"

Quinn's face clouded briefly before she covered it. Her chest felt unexpectedly tight at just the mention of Finn. She growled a little, letting her annoyance spill out just a little. She tried to recover, picking at the bedspread. "I don't know. It's not like Sam is the love of my life or something."

It came out a little bitter. She growled again, louder. "Rachel. This is ridiculous. Dammit, don't make me come in there. I'll rip the sheets off you, so help me I will. I'm not having this conversation if you don't come out here."

There was movement again and Quinn felt the sheets she was using to cover herself to her breast bone being pulled. She gripped tighter.

"Uh uh. You're not taking my covers away" she warned. The pulling stopped.

Quinn grunted. "Fine. Just. Wait. Hang on. I'll get our clothes. Not that I don't like sitting around naked with you, partaking in this bizarre Socratic dialogue, because apparently I do. But it probably isn't a great idea."

Rachel couldn't help her smile at the admission, and Quinn saw it and for some reason she couldn't explain it made her temper flare.

"What? What?" The Cheerio whispered sharply, frustrated. "Seriously? Did you think I would suddenly find you and your body repulsive this morning? If it only it were so," she said a bit harsh. She pressed her lips in a firm line. "I'd love to wave a magic wand and not have these…feelings. But well." She sagged and half smiled sadly at the brown eyes. "I must have left my magic wand in my other pair of sweatpants." She shrugged. "Such is life."

"Those aren't your sweatpants," Rachel interjected cheekily.

"Oh shut it. I try to be somewhat chivalrous and you're just impossible. Just…hang on." She grunted in frustration, but more annoyance than she actually felt. She twisted and reached over the side, rooting around for where she thought Rachel's discarded clothes might have landed.

As she did that, the sheet dropped from the blonde, and Rachel ran her eyes over the flawless back. Except it wasn't flawless. As Quinn hung over the side of the bed she caught a glimpse four very angry looking streaks of red down one shoulder blade. She gulped, and then flushed madly seeing that, part embarrassment, part thrill.

"Ah. There. Finally." Quinn grunted. Rachel eyes were glued to the view of her long form as the torso twisted back up and around, affording her another glimpse of the porcelain skin and breasts.

Quinn caught her looking. Rachel flushed even more and almost grimaced. Quinn looked a little bit smug.

"See something you like?" She raised her eyebrow a little haughtily as she sat up, not pulling up the sheet this time. She was used to being naked around girls, showering in front of them. She watched as the disembodied head framed in sheets lowered and knocked itself on the soft mattress repeatedly.

"I'll take that as a yes. Glad to hear it." The Cheerio was amused and admittedly, more gratified with her discomfort. She wanted Rachel to feel just as off balance as she did. The old Quinn would have reveled in the thrill of knowing the effect she had on the other girl and wondered how best to use it. This Quinn just took an odd comfort in it. And a little bit of thrill perhaps, if she was honest.

She just didn't want to be alone in this. She wasn't sure what she wanted, but at least she felt like she was more in control than the hot mess under the sheets.

Taking pity on the girl, she reached out tentatively and tapped on her head. "Rach. Hey. I'm sorry. I'm really kinda whistling in the dark here. Here are your things. I'm going to put some clothes back on. Think you can come out then?"

"Okay. Yes. I'm sorry," came the meek reply.

"No, no. S'okay. I was poking at you. I'm just as confused as you are." She sighed. "Look, I don't know what time your dads get up, but it's probably best we get up and decent, right? And honestly? After last night, which might I remind you, I have been at _pains_ to point out that I do not regret, I could really use a shower. I don't suppose you have some underwear I could borrow? Underwear that maybe you don't want back. I'm pretty sure I'd stretch them out."

There was a sudden movement as the diva finally emerged. Quinn found herself tackled in a flurry of movement and held in a tight hug. Her chest constricted, and not just from the crushing hold the tiny girl had on her.

"Okay then." Quinn sighed into the wild brown hair. "Easy now. Let's just get on with our day. I probably have to stop by Mercedes' later. And I've got tentative plans with…Sam." The hug got even more fierce for a moment. "Let's just…take a break. We don't have to think about any of this. We can even…pretend it didn't happen."

_Good luck there Q. You're two seconds from giving her butt a squeeze._

She pushed gently out of the hug. Her jaw was tense and her throat was tight as she found the brown eyes. They looked confused and worried and she didn't even know what else.

"You want to pretend…this…it didn't happen?"

Quinn's face steeled up.

"I want to do what you want to do, Rach. I can't tell you how you feel about Finn. I…" she looked down. "This is probably the writing on the wall for me and Sam. But that is me. And has nothing to do with you specifically. This just tells me that… 'I'm just not that in to him', as they say." She shrugged stoically. "It's not the end of the world for either us. Sam and I weren't some epic romance. Not like…" She stopped. "We…I need to just step back."

"But you just said you didn't want to be alone with the crazy…" she almost wailed.

"I don't. But you know, we're both strong willed women. You figure out what you want, or don't want." She pressed her lips to the furrowed brow breathing in her scent, then pulled way. "And I'll do the same."

After a deep breath and a long look, she spoke again. "Now. If you would be so kind as to get dressed, I'd rather not have the extra torture of seeing you naked right now."

Rachel just watched silently as the girl before her turned matter-of-fact seemingly in a blink of an eye. Quinn's defenses had dropped neatly and apparently effortlessly in to place, and she couldn't see through to her in those hazel eyes anymore. It was discomfiting and a huge sense of loss started eating at her. It was jarring just watching her turn all business again.

Rachel nodded mutely and looked around, still unable to herd the morass of feelings that were warring inside. She didn't want to fill the air with words for the sake of doing it, which is something she usually resorted to. Like with Finn for instance.

She realized she filled her time and silences with Finn with words. Constantly. Because he rarely talked about anything but football or Call of Duty. So she just…talked to fill a void. With Quinn, it was give and take. And she'd just been silent since she woke up. And Quinn had filled the silent side of things. And now, why did she felt like a door had shut.

"Quinn…I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"

"Didn't mean to what, Berry?" she snapped. More than she meant to.

Rachel cringed at the use of Berry, and she pressed her lips together, and held her back rigid.

Quinn sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm just tired. Wrecked really. I need to shut up. I've talked more than I ever do, and you've talked less." She shook her head and laughed without humor. "Clearly, our world has tilted on its axis."

Rachel nodded, her voice low and sincere. "Yes, I know my world has."

Hazel eyes pinned Rachel to her spot, and she got one more glimpse of Quinn in there. They filled with something Rachel couldn't read. But it was better than blank.

"I'm not sure if that is good or bad for me. Or you for that matter. I guess we'll see."

She cleared her throat painfully and started looking for her sweatshirt.

They got semi-dressed in silence, each girl lost in her own thoughts, which amounted to trying not to think about the other.

#########################

Rachel busied herself with bringing her clean towels, and gave her a the five cent tour of the shower, assuring her they had a large water tank and that she should take as long a shower as she needed. When she showed Quinn her shampoo selection, the blonde eyed it with interest and allowed a small chink in her armor to show when she smiled at the singer.

"I was wondering what you used. You smell…really good." The half smile she gave Rachel was met with one of her huge grins. As Quinn watched it bloom, she realized how much she missed it and her stomach tightened. She found herself relenting a bit more and she smiled back with a wink and followed her back to the bedroom to pick out a clean shirt to borrow along with the underwear.

The last thing Quinn said to her before heading to the bathroom to shower was mundane, but rather odd in its specificity. "And Rachel?"

Rachel hadn't realized how much she missed hearing her say it. Saying her name.

"Yes Quinn?"

"About the underwear? Can you please make sure there are no bunnies, ducks or unicorns on them? Yeah, that would be great."

Rachel smiled shyly at her and risked a rejoinder, lame as it was.

"You're rather weird, Quinn."

"Yep, I'm a freak, baby, remember?"

Quinn let her mask slip just a bit more for a moment as she winked at her. And she was gone.

Rachel stood a moment allowing herself to feel the little uptick of her heart's tempo. And perhaps hope.

**###################**

**A/N Read and Review if it moves you. Comments and critiques always make me smile. Or think. Or both...but I do hope everyone still enjoys it now that we have come back to plot...?**


	30. Chapter 30

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up has already aired.  
**Rated:** T

**A/N: Thanks for continuing to read and comment and all the adds, it means a lot! Hope you like this one!**

**########**

Once again, for the second time in one week, Quinn found herself in a shower, attempting to scour away insistent, intrusive thoughts of Rachel Berry. It never occurred to her she would have to do that once, much less that she might find herself doing it again. And to be actually _in _Rachel Berry's _actual_ shower while she attempted to wash that woman right out of her hair so to speak. To say it was unexpected was an understatement of gargantuan proportions.

She needed to be calm, cool, and collected. She rubbed hard at her skin, turned the shower to the left another notch, letting the steaming water pelt her reddened back as she rinsed. It stung particularly hard on one shoulder, which puzzled her for a moment before it dawned on her.

She groaned and her carefully corralled thoughts took to careening about again, thoroughly out of control.

A snippet from class popped into her head.

"_Grow wild according to thy nature_." She laughed a little, almost maniacally, as she inhaled a ragged desperate breath. She pictured the dour portrait of Henry David Thoreau.

_I don't think that is what he meant Q. Pretty sure __**Walden**__ was not about getting your freak on with Berry. Berry's erogenous zones will not be on Wednesday's test. Pity… _

Transcendental crisis aside, the shower gel and the shampoo did smell lovely she had to admit as she let the scents drag her thoughts about some more. _Get a grip_, she growled at herself. She turned to twist the knob viciously to the far right steeling herself for the icy cold water she was about to inflict upon herself.

She hissed just barely, bearing the sudden change of temperature with remarkably little fuss. She heard Sue Sylvester calling the squad sloppy babies and declaring a little cold water never hurt anyone that didn't deserve it.

She sucked breath into her tight lungs.

_That's better_, she applauded herself. _Just like that. That's not freezing cold water. It's just a little chilly. You don't want Rachel Berry. You don't want anybody._

A few more seconds passed.

"Fuck me that's cold," she couldn't help but grit out as she forced herself to stand there and take it. Another ten seconds and she twisted the water off.

_Wuss,_ she condemned.

The self-flagellation continued as she dried herself off with the thick cotton towels, scrubbing herself almost painfully dry. The key was to keep moving.

She made fast work of dressing; a small instantly suppressed smile bloomed on her lips as she paused to look at the non-animal motif patterned underwear she was borrowing.

She buried any thoughts that tried to pop up, towel dried her hair and pulled it back in a ponytail. She popped her head to the side, cracking her neck in each direction, and gave herself a serious look before she put on her Sunday Best smile, practicing it for Jonathan and Curtis. She didn't know what the hell was going on with their daughter, but she knew she didn't want to offend the two gracious men.

Two men whose daughter she had just spent the wee hours deflowering. She squeezed her eyes shut again running through a mantra of turnoffs. _Sue Sylvester in a track suit. Finn dancing. Sam speaking Na'avi. Rachel Berry in argyle with the short skirts. Crap._

She breathed deeply, pulling together the momentarily scattered pieces of her impromptu Plan to Deal with it All. At least for the moment. So. Bright smiles and 'yes I had a lovely time' for the dads.

As for Rachel, she was just going to have to wing it. Calm cool and collected had always come easily with Finn and Sam, and except for the one time, Puck. Even that had less to do with desire than reassurance. And now, maybe, she knew why. Maybe.

She went to Rachel's bedroom door. There was whirring on the other side, and indistinct music playing. It sounded like she had thrown herself on her elliptical, opting not to skip out on her workout after all. She decided to knock, wishing she could go for a run today herself. That was not going to happen today as far as she could tell. She frowned. She needed a good stretch, and she was sore for some reason…

_Oh yeah. _She smacked herself in the forehead and ground her fists into her eyes roughly, scrubbing at images that wouldn't go away.

The change in air around her and a whiff of vanilla pair alerted her belatedly to the fact that Rachel had pulled open her door. She opened her eyes and peek through her fingers. The sight of a slightly sweaty and out of breath diva greeted her.

She removed her hands. Big brown eyes were looking at her, concerned.

"Quinn, are you okay? Are you allergic to my of brand shampoo? I will write them a letter! It's supposed to be hypoallergenic and cruelty free! Did you get some in your eyes? If so, I believe the recommended course of action is to flush directly with cold water—"

"Rachel, I'm fine. Or at least hypo allergic shampoo is definitely not my issue. No allergies here. All good, see?" She smiled weakly. "Just you know. Tired."

The brunette nodded and looked relieved. And a little worried. She backed out of the doorway and motioned for the Cheerio to enter. Quinn lifted the damp towel and tossed it on to her shoulder as she entered. She looked down at the other girl, pressed her lips together as she paused mid doorway. She felt weak allowing her eyes to smile a little bit, even if she wouldn't let her lips in on it. But the smile on the tiny girl, and the look in the her eyes was worth it.

Rachel nodded her head, to herself as far as Quinn could tell, because she didn't know what it meant. Leaving the blonde frozen in the doorway, she went to her bureau and grabbed some clothes, talking over her shoulder.

"My turn. You can wait here if you'd like. Or head downstairs if you want. I can smell coffee, so they're up and moving as well."

Quinn's heart thumped a staccato beat. She shook it off and continued into the room, annoyed with herself. "Not sure how brave I'm feeling yet. But the coffee smells good."

"Dad likes good coffee. You should join them," she stated shortly, but with a smile and a nod of her head. "They're pussycats. Really. And they like you. Despite themselves possibly." She said it casually as she swept around some more. She scooped up her supplies and drifted to the door. Quinn watched in silence as the other girl pulled the door behind her to shut it.

She swallowed and croaked. "Rachel?"

The door stopped moving and opened again.

"Yes?"

"Uh. Nothing. I…nothing. I don't know."

"Nothing? I doubt that."

"Sorry. Yeah. I don't know. That kind of nothing. As in, I have nothing intelligent to say." She paused and looked pained as she admitted it. "Not yet anyway. It's still…marinating?"

The dark head nodded thoughtfully. "Okay. I can live with that for the moment. Marinating sounds like a good idea." She started to close the door and opened it again abruptly.

"Quinn?"

She looked up gulped. Quinn was sure it was so loud that Rachel must have heard it.

"Yes?"

"Can we, just, well, not go back to square one? I…"

Quinn smiled a little and cut in. "I'm trying here Berry, really trying. I...I don't know what I want, but I don't want that either. "

"Oh. Okay. I'm glad."

"Go shower. Coffee and bacon. And…"

"What?"

"Yeah. Well, I just want you to know I'm going to go down there. Now, I mean. And I'm going to act as normally as I possibly can. I just don't feel…"

"Normal?"

She chewed her lip and nodded. "Exactly. And I'm not blowing…this…off. Yeah. I guess covers it."

"Okay. Duly noted. Me neither. Thanks for letting me know. I will, well, act normal too."

Quinn tilted her head and half-grinned. She couldn't help it.

"You? I'm looking forward to seeing that for the first time, Berry."

The diva took a deep breath, and there was a moment Quinn thought she was taking it the wrong way. But then Quinn saw the wry smile on her lips.

Rachel nodded and quirked an eyebrow before she spoke. "So says the freak?"

Quinn let out the breath she'd been holding and rolled her eyes. "Touché, Rach, touché. Please. Proceed with your excellent hygiene routine. I'll be downstairs with the parental units." She watched the door shut quietly behind the girl. She looked around the empty room.

"Unless I chicken out that is."

####

Five minutes later, she was still staring out the window at the street below, arms folded. She rocked back and forth, heels to toes and back again. Reverting to childhood nervous habit, she twiddled her hair. It was a bright sunny late Fall day. It looked cold. She inhaled, imagining she could actually smell the cold outside, blended probably with the delicious smell of burning leaves or wood on the breeze. She took one more deep breath, this time taking in the real smell of coffee from downstairs instead of what her imagination had dredged up for her.

_Right. Wait here for freshly washed Rachel in her room, or head downstairs?_

_Downstairs it is_. She took one more wistful glance at the bright scene out the window and pivoted quickly.

Deep breath, chin up, confident steps down the stairs. Check. Halfway down she paused to smell. Layered under the coffee, she started to smell something sweet, cinnamon maybe.

She followed her nose to the breakfast nook and into the kitchen.

"Hey Quinn, good morning." Jonathan smiled at her as he stood at the sink rinsing a bowl. "Did you get some good sleep?" There was what looked like a wok on the stove, which didn't fit with breakfast as far as she could reason.

Curtis looked up from the paper he was reading. "Rachel's snoring didn't keep you up I hope?"

"Good morning Mr… Jonathan, Curtis. No it didn't. I slept well thank you. Rachel is taking a shower still. I guess she got in a workout."

_Oh yeah she did. Can I get a high five?_

She stumbled against the side of the cabinet, grabbing the counter for support and blushed. She bit the inside of her lip. Hard. It was bad enough she had an inner voice that reeked of Santana. She didn't need another one that oozed Puck. She squeezed her eyes shut and then smiled at Curtis and then at Jonathan.

"So Jonathan, what do I smell, besides coffee that is? It smells scrumptious."

Curtis shook his paper to straighten it out as he turned the page and looked at her over his reading glasses. "Oh, you're in for a treat Quinn. We've got beignets on the menu at Chéz Berry this morning."

Jonathan kept rinsing his bowl and smiled at the two of them as he shrugged, almost shyly. "I like to make them every now and again. Rachel was thrilled to find a vegan recipe for me to try. I'm making straight up traditional too though, not to worry."

"Whoa! That sounds lovely. My sister used to brag about her boyfriend at Tulane making them." She paused. "Well she did to me anyway." She clamped her mouth shut. Em hadn't shared that particular boast with her parent. She knew full well that no matter how innocent it was (or wasn't) Russell would have had gone all fire and brimstone with the information that any boy was cooking breakfast for his little girl.

She came so very to snickering at the thought of her dad learning that she was having breakfast at her…whatever Rachel was parent's house, prepared for her by an interracial gay couple. Hypocritical fire and brimstone? Absolutely. Aneurysm? Very probably.

Reeling it in, she continued. "Oh yeah. She would go on about how awesome they were. So light and crispy all at once. But really, this is just too much after the crepes last night. But thank you! I really lucked out, didn't I?" She didn't know if she looked or sounded fake, but she was truly excited for breakfast.

"And don't forget the bacon" Curtis smiled.

"And the bacon, of course." She smiled, deciding she was not feeling fake or not normal at all. So far, so good.

"Help yourself to some coffee Quinn, mugs are…" Jonathan turned and pointed with his chin at the cabinet as he washed his hands and dried them.

"Thanks, can I get either of you some?" She smiled and looked at them as she moved to the cabinet. As an afterthought, she took down another matching mug for Rachel for when she came down. If she even drank coffee. She realized she didn't know one way or the other.

Jonathan grunted. "Not until I'm done slaving away here. It'll just get cold." He sighed dramatically for effect.

Curtis picked up his cup and turned it to eye level and squinted into it. He put it back down. "It appears I could use a refill, thank you Quinn."

She grinned and took his ceramic mug that had Kenyon blazed across it. She was going to have to go out on a limb and guess Curtis had gone to Kenyon. "How do you take it?"

"Just milk please. A friendly paper bag brown if you will."

"Okay. Friendly paper bag brown. Got it."

"Oh, Quinn can you take the bacon out of the fridge. Curtis doesn't mind it cold, but if you want it warm…"

"Oh, I'm fine either way."

He leaned in and whispered. "Look, I know this might make me a bad Jew, and I'm certain it would make me a bad vegan if I were one…? But I have to admit, the smell of bacon is intoxicating."

She looked at him surprise evident on her face.

He rolled his eyes and bobbed his head as he admitted the weakness. "I'm just saying that it compliments the aromas of breakfast nicely."

She smiled conspiratorially. "Got it. I'll have a bit of coffee and then warm up the treif."

Jonathan's eyebrows shot to his receded hairline.

"Before you ask, I honestly have no idea where I learned that word. I'm not using it incorrectly am I? I just means non-kosher? Or something like 'untorn' I think?" She shrugged self-consciously. "I kinda…soak up random useless information like that. I don't know. Maybe Rachel used it?"

Jonathan nodded, amused but non-plussed. "I suppose she could have. Still, pretty impressive for a—" he agreed.

"Shiksa? Yeah, that one I think I saw on TV or something like that."

Curtis guffawed across the table and Jonathan groused at him playfully as he tossed his towel at his partner. "Pipe down over there, _sheygetz_."

She looked over at Curtis as she poured coffee for both of them, making them both with the requested ratio of milk to coffee. He winked at her wickedly. "Yep, Quinn, I believe that is the male equivalent of _shiksa_."

She hurried out of the kitchen to the table. Jonathan was a blur of activity she noted as she set his coffee down and took a seat. Just like his daughter, the thought rose unbidden. She blinked and looked again at Curtis as raised his mug in thanks and took a sip as he pushed the portions of the paper he wasn't reading towards her in offering.

He looked at her sidelong for a moment considering her. He watched her looking around taking things in. She blew on her coffee and tried not to shrink under his gaze. It wasn't unfriendly, but a little unnerving. He shook his head and smiled as he rubbed his chin.

"You know, Rachel could be in trouble with you."

Her stomach dropped and she gulped her coffee, which was a little too warm, but she swallowed anyway.

"Yep. I'd say she's more than met her match, don't you think Jonathan?" He looked over her head to the kitchen. She didn't follow his gaze. Her heart raced as she continued to blow on her coffee, cupping the mug in both hands she looked up at him and glanced away. He narrowed his eyes a little in a way she couldn't read, and then smiled at her genuinely.

She gulped again, unnoticed she hoped. The quirk of Curtis' eyebrow left her unsure.

Jonathan spoke from the kitchen. "Well, hard to bet against my little girl, but…" there was a clang and the buzz of a mixer that drowned him out.

Curtis looked at her again over his glasses.

"My money is on you. Someone needed to take her down a peg or two anyway. Yep. My money's on you Fabray."

Now she couldn't swallow around the lump in her throat. She coughed a bit, turning a little red.

He laughed and looked at her again. "Scrabble is a blood sport for Rachel after all. Just so you know." He picked up his section of the paper again, while Quinn struggled to maintain her composure as she continued to sip at her coffee as if it was a lifeline.

Curtis hid his smile behind the book review section as he turned the page and went back to his reading. Quinn sighed with relief, she hoped inaudibly.

The whirring of the mixer continued in the kitchen and Curtis appeared absorbed in the news, and she relaxed a bit, feeling less the under the spotlight.

She couldn't help but think that while all of this seemed very pleasant and 'normal' without too much effort…it was also an incredibly bizarre turn of events in her life. She looked around the well-appointed, but cozy kitchen and considered the men who occupied it, and this home.

_No wonder Rachel doesn't give a fuck what anyone thinks_. _Well, of course she cares. She cares a lot. But with these two men supporting her quietly, I guess she gets by._

She sipped her now cooling coffee thinking about that in silence, glancing over the local news section, surreptitiously checking to see if there was any mention of the Cheerios and their upcoming Regional competition. Sue Sylvester was nothing if not good at getting publicity. She was actually grateful for Sue's penchant for self-aggrandizement by proxy considering the fact that it would be Cheerleading and not Glee that was going to get her the money for a scholarship. Or at least she hoped. The more notice the Cheerios got, the better her chances were of snagging the attention of a recruiter.

Curtis watched her quietly, covertly, wondering what she was looking for in the paper. He didn't quite know what made their guest tick. He liked her, but he didn't have her figured out yet. He was rousted from his thoughts by the unmistakable sound of his daughter bouncing downstairs with the unbridled Berry enthusiasm. He looked to the door, awaiting her grand entrance with an indulgent smile.

"I smell cinnamon daddy!"

"Hey kiddo! Good morning!" Curtis smiled and toasted her with his coffee cup.

Jonathan grinned. "Hey sweetie. Yeah, I didn't branch out to something completely new, you might be relieved to hear, but…as we have a guest, I did think perhaps I could do a little better than leftover bacon and eggs and bagels for us this morning."

"Beignets?"

"Just so."

"Vegan?"

"Of course. And normal for, well the rest of us."

Quinn turned and smiled at Rachel, more widely than she meant to allow herself to. _Normal._ There was that word again. This weekend had turned everything she had ever thought or been pre-programmed to think about that word 'normal' on it's ever-loving head.

It was no small surprise to herself that she was oddly okay with it. So far. Normal was relative after all.

**########**

**A/N Comments and reviews appreciated. Back after a week away from home. Glad to be back. Yay! : ) Oh…I will cop to having Diners Drive-Ins and Dives on in the background this afternoon while I was writing. Beignets, yum! Hope you enjoyed the chapter. **


	31. Chapter 31

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up has already aired.  
**Rated:** T

**A/N: Thanks for continuing to read and comment and all the adds, it means a lot! And thanks for the reviews, they make me almost Springtime happy. Long chapter, but lots to deal with, no?  
**

Rachel bounced into the kitchen, putting on her best smile for her dads. She'd showered as fast as humanly possible after her workout. She certainly didn't feel like she had the luxury to dwell on any of the nights confusing events.

Sure, she'd acted calmly with Quinn, but in truth she was a complete jangle of nerves, and while she wasn't eager to sit down to breakfast with Quinn and her dads, she also wanted to be in the room as much as possible. Not that it really gave her any control over the situation, but it gave her the illusion of it. And right now, the illusion of control was better than nothing. If she unwound her tight grip on her thoughts, she'd have to think about everything.

She'd think about the way Quinn's soft lips felt against her skin, the way her hands felt _every_where. And if she thought about the way Quinn's lips felt, she couldn't help but compare it to the way that Finn's felt. And then she knew she'd probably spiral out of control.

That way madness lies. Or maybe it was it dragons? In either case, it was to be avoided at all cost at the moment.

She thrown on jeans and a sloppy v-neck sweater, looked at herself in her cheval mirror and cleared her throat, and gave herself her most confident smile. Just as she would before any performance.

_You're on Rachel Berry._

**####**

"Good morning all." Rachel breezed into the kitchen, smiling. Quinn smiled over at her, thinking she looked fresh and dazzling.

"There is a coffee mug out over there if you need it."

"Well…"

"It is the weekend after all, sweetie, I used the good stuff." Jonathan looked over.

In answer to Quinn's raised eyebrows Rachel explained. "I only indulge on the weekends when it can't disrupt my sleep pattern."

"Aha." She nodded and smiled knowingly.

The brunette rolled her eyes. "Yes, Quinn, I control my intake of caffeine. It IS an addictive substance you know. And well, you know what they say, right?" She indicated her body and shrugged ruefully.

Quinn looked puzzled "It's the best part of waking up…? But then she put it together. "Oh, what? That it stunts your growth?" She tried to contain her laugh as she said it, but a giggle escaped. Then she raised her hands in apology.

Curtis interjected mildly. "Not to mention, Quinn, can you imagine that one on a caffeine buzz every day of the week?"

"The horror." Quinn agreed with a laugh.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. No comments from the peanut gallery, thank you very much. And well it's not like I can afford to take chances here, ya know?"

"Riiight." She smiled as the petite girl poured her coffee and added soy milk. She cleared the newspaper and spot for her.

Jonathan smacked at Rachel's hand as she swept by and put a finger to the beignet mix. "Hey, knock it off!"

"What?" She whined. "It's not like there is raw egg in there…"

"No. In fact, there's no egg in THAT one over there." He pointed to another bowl. "The one you're trying to sneak into has eggs in it, my dear."

"Eek!"

"Would have served you right if I'd let you eat it, wouldn't it?"

Hmph." She sauntered over to the table, taking the seat next to Quinn.

Curtis rattled his paper and folded it messily and set it down, and leaned on his elbows. "So! Did you two have a good night? Stay up late watching TV and…whatever it is that girls do?"

Both girls dropped their gazes and gulped coffee.

Curtis looked from one to the other and back again, amused and confused. "Ooookay then. I guess the mystery of teenage girls will continue to remain just that. As long as no one raided the liquor cabinet, then…fine, keep your secrets."

"Nothing too exciting daddy," Rachel smiled, taking every ounce of willpower not to look at the blonde next to her.

"Anne Hathaway was on Saturday Night Live."

Jonathan popped his head up from his preparation.

"Oh, we love her! If we'd known that, we would have stayed up and cramped your style. Ah well. Good to see that show is still relevant. Glad you girls had a good time."

**####**

Quinn ran her tongue over her lips, gathering rogue cinnamon and sugar before she reached for her napkin. Rachel glanced and looked away quickly, distracting herself. Quinn noted it with some well-covered amusement. She brushed the rest of the remnants off with a napkin instead, and turned to her hosts.

"The breakfast was just as lovely for, well, actual breakfast as it was for dinner. Thank you so much Jonathan. I can now say I've actually had beignets. And they were awesome. Both kinds!"

From his spot at the kitchen table, Jonathan stretched and waved his hand dismissively. "It was my pleasure, Quinn. I'm glad you liked them."

Recovered, Rachel rose and started gathering plates to take to the kitchen. "Ha! See, I told you. It is actually possible to eat tasty vegan food."

"Well in this case, I'll give you that. I'm not giving up bacon."

"Amen to that!" Curtis went and opened the fridge, pulling out the almost empty orange juice container.

Quinn grabbed the rest of the plates and utensils and followed Rachel to the kitchen waving her hand at Jonathan's weak attempt to stop her.

The diva went to the sink as she sermonized. "Hey, I'm not the one going to Hell for eating innocent pork flesh."

Quinn snorted, and Curtis chimed in for the carnivores. "Well, while I applaud your sense of morals, kiddo, you don't believe in Hell."

"Still." The diva sighed extra dramatically as she rinsed a plate.

"Really? No Hell?" Quinn looked over surprised, never having considered that. Rachel always seemed to thrive on the moral high ground. Certain instances of boyfriend stealing, reconnaissance missions to Vocal Adrenaline and the Sunshine Corazon incident aside.

"There isn't exactly a concept for Hell in Judaism."

Quinn bobbed her head, pursing her lips. "Huh. Must be nice…"

Rachel caught her eye and when she reached for the next dish, instead of taking it right away, she held kept the plate suspended between them.

She knew that Quinn must have as much, if not more conflict roiling around inside. She spoke quietly as her daddy moved back to join his husband. She made her voice light, but her eyes were serious. "Even if you believe in it, I don't think you should worry about going there." She dropped her voice so only Quinn would hear. "I mean, say, for any particular reason."

Rachel saw the painful smile Quinn's lips pulled into. "Subtle much there Berry?" she said murmured. It was snarky, but without malice. She raised her voice to normal level. "Good to know! I'll let Father O'Brien know he can stop worrying about me then I suppose."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the small frame rise and fall with a sigh. When she turned to receive the next rinsed plate, Quinn caught her eye, tilted her head, and gave her a half smile to let her know she was kidding. She nodded and she hoped that Rachel took it as the thank you she meant.

**####**

They finished the clean up and headed upstairs to get ready for the rest of the day. Both Jonathan and Curtis offered to take Quinn home, but Rachel insisted she would do it, leaving the blonde feeling both anxious and relieved at the same time. What else was new?

_Welcome to your new normal Q._

**####**

The street still looked bright and cold outside as she stared from Rachel's room. She held her phone in her hand, turning it over and over. She'd turned it off the night before. Since she'd turned it on before breakfast, however, it had been blowing up silently all morning.

Sam, Mercedes, Santana, all vying for her attention today. All she really wanted to do was disappear with her thoughts for awhile. But she knew Mercedes was half-expecting her for late lunch after the Jones clan returned from Church.

Sam? Well Sam was going to want to do something with her this evening or this afternoon, since she was supposed to be studying at some point for the Ode to the West Wind crap. They never did get that far yesterday. She huffed out a breath. Yesterday? Had it really only been yesterday that Kurt, Mercedes and Rachel had been at her house having pizza and studying? And now?

Now everything was in flux. Everything. She looked down onto the street and squinted.

**####**

Rachel stepped into her room, fresh from brushing her teeth and cleaning up to find Quinn staring out of her semi-bay window. She was turned at an angle away from her, one arm folded at her chest, and one hand fiddling with something restlessly. The bright crisp light streaming in turned her hair even more golden. She was squinting into the brightness, focused on the distance, chewing her lip, apparently oblivious to Rachel's return. She looked calm. The only thing really betraying her agitation was the constant flipping of the cell phone in hand.

She also looked impossibly lovely. Lovely and severe at once. She always did. Except those few months near the end of her pregnancy when her rigidness faded a bit into softer edges. Rachel sighed and took stock of herself, her thoughts. Quinn looked the same as she always did, albeit with the added benefit of superb lighting. The difference now of course was the response Rachel felt to that objective observation. All those indefinite, inadequate words. Words that described feelings that Rachel had hoped she wouldn't feel in the clear light of day. Complicated things.

After the somewhat awkward start to their day, and her somewhat cowardly retreat under the covers, the least she could do was try to make up for some of it. Despite the fact that the room actually belonged to her, she felt like she was intruding. Of course, she'd often felt that way around Quinn in general. At least she wasn't feeling so much intimidated as intrusive now. She leaned into the door jam and tapped lightly on the door frame.

"Hey you," she said softly. "Penny for your thoughts?"

Pulled from her contemplation, Quinn whirled around, surprise on her face evident. Like she had forgotten where she was. Rachel half expected the face to cloud over in annoyance, as she'd seen it do countless times over the past two years. But there was no trace of thunderheads this time. Instead she tossed phone on the bed and wrapped her arms around herself, and looked at her feet before meeting her eyes again.

"Hey." She looked down at her phone and looked up again. She shifted her eyes meaningfully to the open door.

Taking the hint, Rachel slipped inside and shut the door behind her.

"Thanks. I just…"

"Don't want my dads hearing anything? I understand. Me neither, you can imagine."

The taller girl bounced her head in agreement.

"How are you feeling?" She wanted to know how she was feeling, but she was alarmed at how desperate to know _what_ she was feeling. But she suspected the singer couldn't put her finger on it anymore than she could.

"How am I feeling?" She moved to the corner of the bed and sat there for a moment. "I am okay. I feel okay. I am feeling…a lot. Yes. A lot."

"A lot of…?"

"I have no earthly idea. But there's a lot of it. All over."

Quinn nodded, head down and smiled a bit into her chest,

"I feel…a lot too."

Rachel crossed her legs in a well-mannered ladylike manner as she perched on the bed. Quinn noticed.

_She's not relaxed.  
Yes Q. With your arms folded and your head tucked, you're clearly in full chillax mode yourself.  
Oh shut it._

"Hey. I should probably go, huh?" Rachel lifted her head, brown eyes caught hers and held them steadily before they both gave in and looked away.

"Quinn…"

"Rachel…"

They both laughed. And the tension eased just slightly.

"I went first last time, please go ahead Quinn."

Quinn sighed. "Not fair," she muttered. "But fine." She threw her arms outward suddenly and let them land with a smack on her thighs. She opened her mouth speak and snapped her jaw shut again. She took a breath and put her hands on her hips for a moment, tapping her fingers. Rachel watched, worried, but bemused with a Quinn Fabray at a loss for words. It was unprecedented. True, she wasn't one to talk constantly, but she'd never seen her looking quite so at a loss. It was a little endearing.

The cheerleader released a pent up growl of frustration. She'd come to like that growl, Rachel thought absently before she focused again.

"Okay. Here goes. I am completely at a loss here Rachel. I have no idea what the right thing to do here is, and…that being the case, I'm just trying really, really hard, you have no idea how hard, to just not do the wrong thing." She looked down at her, and Rachel could see the how important it was for her to get her point, whatever it was, across. So she kept her mouth shut and nodded.

"I really, really don't want to be an asshole here. And I have no idea what you want. I don't know what I want either, but I'm just having to go by feel here and I'm assuming you're as freaked the hell out this morning as I am. And before you jump to conclusions, it has nothing to do with the fact that it's well, you know, YOU."

Rachel was extremely relieved to hear that she had to admit. Granted it was a slightly veiled reference to their past acrimony. But still, she was relieved. But she wasn't going interrupt the extremely agitated girl to tell her.

"It's just more that…well, YOU…are a girl. I don't know if you've noticed? We're both girls."

Rachel shook her head and laughed sardonically. "Why yes Quinn, in fact I had noticed. Good thing you turned that light on, otherwise I would have been in even more shock this morning."

She squeezed her eyes shut and pleaded with her voice. "Rachel…"

"Fine, fine, sorry. My turn for gallows humor I guess. Go on."

"You know what I mean. I mean, there is nothing wrong with that fact. That you are a girl, obviously. I mean. I just didn't think that I…"

Rachel curled her lip and took pity on her and cut in. "Quinn, Quinn, its okay. I get it. Color me freaked here too. Don't you think I've been living in this little bubble of…what would you call it? Assumptions? Yes. Assumptions. In this town? Assumptions about what I am? Please." She pitched her voice higher and more nasal. "Two gay dad's, bet she's gay too. ALL of that crap." She sighed. "And yet? I never…well, was? So yeah, I'm pretty flummoxed that this has popped up all the sudden too. But all I can do is try to process it. And you know? I don't think I can process everything today."

Quinn looked relieved and flopped dramatically onto the bed. "I know, right?"

"Right."

"So. Yeah."

"Yeah."

She raised herself to her elbows and turned her head.

"You know what Berry?"

"What?"

"I don't know much, and I don't have everything or ANYthing figured out. But…"

She spun around sat up, clasping her arms around her knees. She looked shy and impish at the same time.

Rachel waited before prompting her finally. "But…?"

The cheerleader grinned wickedly before she answered.

"You are a really, really good kisser Rachel Berry. Sam's got nothin' on you."

Rachel's mouth dropped open, and then she smiled hugely and colored up. Cocking an eyebrow, she opened her mouth to speak. Quinn tilted her head, mock threatening her.

"Berry, I swear to God if you critique me now like you would my solo, I will beat you."

Rachel laughed, but paled a little at the thought of that actually happening. "I admit I was GOING to be a smartass and say you weren't half bad yourself."

"Oh?"

"But, I'd be lying. You were… superlative."

Quinn grinned. "I was wasn't I?"

"Jeez Fabray, modest aren't we?"

"You know it. "

"Well…about me being such a stellar kisser?"

"Yes…?" Quinn dropped her gaze and raised her eyebrow and let the word trail out, pretending to be annoyed.

"For the love of all that is holy, please don't accidentally text that to say…Santana for instance? That I'm a better kisser than Finn, Noah and Sam? Even though it's obviously true…"

Quinn guffawed. "I know, right?"

**####**

"Do you have everything?"

"I believe I do."

"Mercedes is expecting you? "

"Yeah, texted her I'd swing by. I don't want to appear ungrateful for the offer after all they did for me. Truthfully though, I'm still stuffed from breakfast. I would love to go for a run later."

The smaller girl nodded, understanding. "Yes, a good workout is often good for clearing one's mind."

"Rachel, I gotta say, I don't think back-to-back marathons could clear what I've got running around in my head right now."

Rachel ducked her head in recognition and empathy. "I empathize. My elliptical did wonders, but I'd hardly say my mind is cleared."

It hardly needed to be said what it was filled with. Warm skin, soft lips, hand, fingers, tongues and sounds. God, the sound of Quinn... She shook her head to break her train of thought. She opened her eyes to an amused Quinn watching her, amused smirk on her face.

"Well, nice to know I'm not alone with the crazy after all then." She bent over and pulled her shoes on before Rachel could reply.

She looked up to find the diva watching her with pursed lip, tapping her foot. She ducked her head again to hide her smile as she laced her shoes.

Rachel rubbed her eyes sockets trying to rub away the images in her mind's eye. She wanted to reach out and touch that hair. Again. She felt her hand reaching out and she snatched it back, clearing her throat to speak.

"Okay, are we ready?"

"As I'll ever be" the blonde quipped as she stood, and the diva also stood up from the bed, straightening the non-existent wrinkles on the bedspread.

Now Quinn kept her place looking at her for a long heavy moment before she moved closer.

"Rachel?"

The petite girl licked her lips delicately, wondering what was coming next, and if it would be whole sentences or not. "Yes?"

"You know how I told you I'm trying really hard not to do the wrong thing here and all?" She saw head bob in acknowledgment, and continued, smiling a little sheepishly. "And let's face it, that attempt in itself is a little new to me…almost as new as…well last night."

Rachel got an odd look on her face and then raised her eyebrow. "Can I just say that I never would have guessed you were new at that—"

She half gasped and covered her mouth, but couldn't stop the small nervous laugh.

"NO. No. No no no. No you may NOT say that right now. I mean. Yeah. Gah. Okay. Don't make me put Vintage Rachel back in the box."

She looked down at her and her voice squeaked a bit. "But…thanks?"

Rachel's eyes twinkled at her. She shrugged, trying unsuccessfully to look repentant.

"Sorry. Just making an attempt at the opposite of gallows humor, whatever that would be."

Quinn put a hand to her forehead and massaged her eyebrows. "Can I get to my point?"

She looked again and got a neutral side-to-side head bob this time as the brunette narrowed her eyes and looked earnest. A common look for her, Quinn thought with amusement.

"Certainly. After I say something. "

"Oh, well this is more like it. Go ahead peanut."

"Peanut?"

The blonde shrugged and cracked a small smile gesturing for her to continue. "Peanut gallery, you. Same same."

Rachel gave her a droll look, crossed her arms, shook her head, and smiled before she spoke again.

"You did tell me you were trying to not do the 'wrong thing.' I appreciate that. I just wanted to say, Quinn, that from what I've seen, you do actually do the 'right' thing in the end."

When the cheerleader started to protest, she held up her hands to silence her. "I'm not saying that, like everyone, including myself, you don't sometimes need a push. Or maybe a shove is more like it. But that's all really."

Quinn took a deep breath and chuckled. "Wow. I'm going to be black and blue from all the backhanded compliments you're dishing out Berry."

The diva shrugged apologetically. "Sorry. I just call them like I see them, as they say." She caught and held Quinn's eyes. "And you know, I'm trying too. To not completely muck everything up. " She looked off to the bay window that had held the other girls attention so completely moments ago. She looked back again.. "For everyone I mean."

The hazel eyes flinched visibly.

"I know you are. So. Yeah. So…I didn't. I don't want to screw it up for you. I didn't plan…this. Really I didn't."

Rachel dared to reach for her arm, and squeezed it lightly. "Hey, Hey there. I know that. You might be a hard nut to crack Quinn Fabray, but I don't think even you are THAT Machiavellian…"

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Rachel" she lied. She rolled her eyes, and it was weirdly comforting for Rachel to see that all too familiar gesture.

"You had something else to say before I interrupted you so rudely. So...?"

Quinn furrowed her brow and glowered at her a little bit. Rachel laughed a little and motioned for her to continue.

The Cheerio pulled herself up and looked at her pointedly. Then she swallowed around a lump in her throat. "Sooo…smartass. I would think perhaps in normal, hm, is that the right word? At any rate, in normal circumstances, whatever normal is, I feel like I'm supposed to maybe…at least shake your hand? Hug you? Hmmm."

The diva pursed her lips and bobbed her head as she absorbed Quinn's bumbling statement. "A hug? A handshake?"

Quinn's eyes darted around quickly. Up at the ceiling, down at the bed. Back to Rachel. "I guess even, maybe I'd probably feel like I should probably kiss you…? After…well what all we did. It would be the gallant thing to do…?" She trailed off, knowing she'd hashed that pretty good.

It was Rachel's turn to glower back for a little effect, but her eyes betrayed her amusement. "Wow. Very gallant Quinn. Feel like you should? I mean, I didn't know it was going to be such a task to kiss me. My mistake, I thought after last night…"

Quinn put her hands on her hips and looked up for strength. "Want. Want to kiss you. I want to kiss you. I. Want. To. Kiss. You. Happy? Argh. This is so fucked up. I should just…go." She turned abruptly and started looking around the room for her phone.

Rachel opened her mouth to speak, and snapped it shut again watching Quinn move around with angry looking energy. Despite her best efforts, she had thought of little else but kissing the cheerleader since she'd emerged from her blanket cocoon this morning. And she'd been thinking about a great deal more than kissing her, much to her dismay.

"Quinn, Quinn. Hey. Stop."

But she did not stop, at least not until she found her phone. Rachel could see the normally confident girl looked stricken; her ego had taken a body blow. One she had delivered. Her stomach clenched, and she stumbled mentally about trying to figure out how to reassure the girl. She didn't know what to do other than tell her the truth. She cleared her throat nervously.

"Oh, Quinn sw—Quinn. God, trust me I've been thinking about practically nothing else. Kissing you I mean. Really. Boy do I really want…" She stopped and cleared her throat again, stalling for time and the right words, which probably weren't going to come anyway. She sighed. "Look, I also know I'm confused as to whether that would be good idea. Right or wrong."

Quinn nodded and swallowed. Her attempt at a cocky smile came out a little watery. "Hey, a girl's gotta ask right?"

The tiny girl's chest thumped a huge rhythm just at the vulnerability in that look. She moved towards Quinn without even realizing it. She took her hands in her own and held them. She looked up, and saw her eyes were shut tight. So she turned her attention to peeling the cell phone out of the other girl's death grip. Once successful, she tossed it gently back onto the bed. Then she pulled the long fingers to her lips and kissed them, dropping them. Quinn had opened her eyes now. They were bright and a little scared looking. Rachel looked up holding her gaze.

Then she got up on her tiptoes, placed her hands gently on her cheeks and whispered. "And when has Quinn Fucking Fabray ever NOT gotten what she asked for?" The taller girl's eyebrow quirked at that, and Rachel smiled. "One kiss Quinn." Then she pulled her down til their lips met in a gentle kiss.

Both girls had just enough sense not to turn the chaste sweet kiss into anything more heated. After a moment, Quinn backed away and looked her in the eyes. "Thanks" she whispered.

"No thanks necessary. It's just, Quinn, you're just nuts if you think I haven't been thinking of kissing you. I just…"

Quinn leaned in to touch her forehead to the smaller girl.

"Not a good idea. I know."

"Yeah," Rachel confirmed with regret. She gathered the long body against hers in a snug firm hug, enjoying the feel. "At least not at the moment" she whispered. Rachel wasn't sure she should have said that out loud.

Quinn's heart jumped, and quickened

_Okay. Enough crazy for one day Q, even if it might be a nice kind of crazy._

She pulled back and smiled, a little more herself.

"Okay, so, how about the handshake now? "

Rachel grinned, just a little. "I can agree to a handshake, but only if we're agreeing that no matter what, we are not going back to square one?"

The taller girl nodded and pretended to think it over as she bobbed her head back and forth.

"Quinn…"

"What? Just kidding." She held out her hand. "Deal."

Rachel took the hand. Quinn quirked her eyebrow and slipped forward and placed her left hand on Rachel's cheek and captured her lips, stealing a kiss. It was faster than their shared chaste kiss the moment before, and over almost before Rachel even knew it. But somehow it packed a bigger punch and stole her breath.

The diva stood dazed for half a second, and then she put her hands to her lips and touched them as they tugged into a smile. Then she caught herself and tried to glare at the taller girl. "You suck, Fabray." It was all she could come up with.

"Sorry." Quinn smirked a little, and then turned a little more serious. "In case I go into a catatonic state when I process all this, I didn't want to miss that."

Rachel sniffed and then looked concerned.

"You can't go into a catatonic state. We have Sectionals coming up."

Quinn shook her head, annoyed but amused at the same time.

"There we go. And…we now return you to our regularly scheduled Glee Captain Rachel Berry. Let's go. I need to get home, so I can suit up for yet more food."

"Oh shut it. I'm Co-Captain."

"Whatever. Homeward, oh Fearless Leader."

_Anxious, confused, and now horny. Great. Your new normal is getting even more complicated Q. You need a run and a cold shower like nobody's business._

**A/N: A little angst, a lotta awkward, I know. Had a lot to move through there to get the ball rolling and so we can deal with poor good guy Sam soon. And then after that, maybe Quinn's inner Pucktana as someone called it I believe, will be able to come out to play some more. ;) Hope you enjoyed, and thank again to my faithful reviewers. Love hearing from you. Now, off to work and catch up with other peoples writing! : )**


	32. Chapter 32

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up has already aired.  
**Rated:** T

**A/N: Thanks everyone once again for continuing to read and comment, and all the alerts and adds, and especially the reviews. They bring joy to me, like a game of Frisbee does for the whippets. Or one of the whippets. She doesn't share well.**

**A/N: Sorry, a little less fluffy, but well, they have things to work out yet!**

* * *

"I'm going to say goodbye and thanks to your dads, hang on." She detoured into the kitchen where Jonathan was reading the paper, and Curtis was moving around the kitchen opening cabinets, and dancing and humming to the music. Then he broke into louder singing. And it was heartfelt. And it was bad. Very bad. Quinn watched him quietly as she leaned against the entrance. Jonathan looked up and put his fingers to his lips and grinned.

"And the caravan has all my friends  
It will stay with me until the end  
Gypsy Robin, Sweet Emma Rose  
Tell me everything I need to know

LAA laa la la, LA la laa laaa…

Turn up your radio, and let me hear the soooo—ooooong…  
Switch on your electric light  
I looooong to just hold you tiiigghtt…EEEP!"

Curtis stumbled as he turned to face them, a bottle of spices in head. "Sorry! You startled me." He shrugged and grinned. "Ahem. So clearly Rachel doesn't get her voice from me…"

Quinn's face was tight and trembling as she tried to keep a straight face. "Hey, I don't judge."

Jonathan laughed at that, and Curtis scowled. "What? I like Van Morrison."

"Oh, is that who this is? I think I've heard of him, or them? And if you're thinking of Jim Morrison and the Doors, wrong Morrison."

Rachel came in leaned on the kitchen counter and smiled. "Him. I'm sure you've one of his more famous songs _Brown-Eyed Girl_. A brilliant, but incredibly over-played song."

"Aw, honey, you know why we love it" Jonathan smacked her playfully with his newspaper.

"I know, I know" Rachel smiled. "How can I not love it?" Then she allowed an indulgent but dramatically pained look to settle. "But daddy. Come on. It's just been covered way too many times."

Curtis had gone back to bopping his head. Dragging out bowls and cooking implements. "Agreed."

Jonathan smacked Rachel again. "Hey, at least _And it Stoned Me_ isn't 'your song'"

"This is true."

Quinn's face lit up. "Oh, okay, I know who that is now. Oh, and THAT'S why I haven't heard much of him. I don't think my father would have let that in the house…"

Jonathan bobbed his head. "Could be. So, Quinn." He stood and looked at her seriously and thoughtfully. "I think I speak for both of us when I say that we enjoyed getting to know you a little better. The real you?" He looked at her and cocked his eyebrow. "If this is the real you, you're welcome anytime."

Quinn swallowed and nodded, smiling weakly. "Thank you."

Curtis turned his head and nodded. "I'm taking advantage of Rachel's prior plans this evening. Going to marinate something…well, you don't want to know the gory details, do you hon?" He snorted when his daughter gave him an evil look. He whispered dramatically to Quinn, "Steak au Poivre, with asparagus and potatoes. It's gonna be delicious Quinn. If you don't get full up, there might be leftovers."

Jonathan cleared his throat. "Quinn, not that you wouldn't be welcome, but I don't want to get your hopes up. Leftovers are highly unlikely. It's just that good…and the sauce. Oh my goodness. So, so good. But maybe I'll get him to make it again another time if you'd like."

Quinn smiled genuinely. "Thank you both. And here I thought Jonathan was the chef! As it is I've got to get some studying in this evening. I'm afraid it will be pizza or mac and cheese for me this evening. Ooh, hang on, I've got some casserole mom pre-made. So while my mouth is watering thinking of your dinner, I'm all set."

Rachel was tapping her foot impatiently. She heaved a very loud sigh, using her whole body. "Okay, are we all through discussing how delicious innocent cow parts are with sauce on them? Yes? Okay then."

Quinn raised her eyebrows, and Jonathan winked at her. "Okay, you heard the militant vegetarian. Time for me to take my leave, and let you get your cook on over there Curtis. Don't let me interrupt your performance." The tall man smiled and did a spin move.

"Show off" Jonathan intoned.

"Hey, when you've got it, flaunt it" Curtis shot back.

Rachel watched the taller girl smiled at their playful bickering. It pleased her to see her at ease. "Anyway, I just wanted to say thank you both for including me in your weekend family plans on such short notice. The crepes were wonderful and the beignets were…superlative Jonathan. Thank you. I wish I could cook something for YOU guys to say thank you, however I'm afraid a box of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese really probably wouldn't say very much. In fact, I'm not sure what they'd say."

Curtis chuckled and waved his hand dismissively. "Anything made with love…"

"Hey, that wasn't the tune I remember you singing when I destroyed the risotto last time."

"Oh, you know what I mean. Anyway, Quinn, it was our pleasure. Rachel should feel free to invite you any time."

Jonathan interjected. "Just not on the same nights as Stretch…he eats more food than all of us. I think you'd probably end up going hungry Quinn."

The diva raised her eyebrow and pressed her lips together in a slightly nervous smile. Quinn smiled a bit tightly and nodded. "I'll keep that in mind."

Her stomach clenched mildly, upset, and her mouth got dry. She hefted her bag and turned towards the singer to cover it. "Ready Rach?"

She nodded quickly. "Oh yes. Bye dad, daddy. Back in a bit. I have to…pick up my notes."

"Okay sweetie, we'll be here."

**####****####**

Quinn slid into the passenger's seat and buckled her seat. She gave Rachel a sidelong glance. "Hey, I'm not in such a hurry that you getting your notes together before we leave would make or break me here you know. I'm not even hungry for more food, like I said. I'm about to bust over here."

Rachel looked over as she put the car in drive hurriedly. "Oh, no it's okay. I…I'll get them later."

Obviously, something was a bit off. Quinn narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out just what exactly was making the other girl uncomfortable. Not that there wasn't enough to feel slightly awkward, or well, a lot awkward about this morning. But this seemed a bit different. She turned it over in her head as Rachel backed out of the driveway, and headed down the street. Finally something clicked. She followed her hunch.

"You're going to go home and change, aren't you?"

Rachel looked at her, and looked away again, blowing her hair out of her face with, but didn't answer, making much of checking all her mirrors again.

Rachel's look told her all she needed to know. Quinn wasn't sure what to do about the niggling, annoying feeling she got in her stomach with de facto confirmation.

"Before your…study date. With Finn."

"How did you…?

Quinn shrugged her shoulders and followed up as breezily as she could.

"What? It's not rocket science. You're…looking a little more…toned down than normal. Clothes-wise I mean. I thought maybe it was your weekend casual look. But obviously it doesn't extend to dates."

Rachel felt her face color a little. She wasn't sure if she was embarrassed or annoyed.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Quinn shaking her head, and she decided she was embarrassed. And because she was embarrassed, she was now annoyed as well.

She took a noisy breath.

"Finn, well he doesn't normally see me…" She stopped and looked both ways as she turned before she started again. "He said…he loves me in the…"

"Short skirts" Quinn finished flatly and stared straight ahead.

Rachel chewed her lip before she answered.

"Well, it's not like I wasn't wearing them before anyway. So I didn't start wearing them for him or anything, but fine, yes. I'm going to go home and get my notes and change out of this."

Quinn nodded and raised her hands defensively. "Hey, not my business, right?" She only barely resisted the urge to comment that she was well aware that Rachel had always worn weird, fashion challenged clothes to school. She frowned, and released the hold her teeth had on her tongue. That was going to hurt later too.

Rachel drove silently through the side streets. She was frustrated with how easily Quinn could get to her. Although she had to admit, the cheerleader hadn't said anything that wasn't true. In addition, it didn't sound like an attempt to her put down exactly. So why did she feel this way?

Quinn fiddled with her seat-belt in the quiet, trying to decide if she should turn the radio on. She glanced over again. Having successfully bitten back, literally, a well-worn Rachel Berry insult, she decided to take it a step further and apologize. Sort of. She gave herself a mental pat on the back.

"Hey Rachel, I wasn't trying to put you down, I swear I wasn't."

"I know that" she said, only slightly peevish now.

_Then why do you look so pouty and annoyed? _She groused mentally but didn't say it. Her voice was quiet when she spoke, with only the tiniest bit of teasing. "Your death grip on the wheel there says otherwise." She watched and Rachel had color high on her cheeks now, but she eased her grip at least.

You did this. Quinn thought sadly to herself. Two years of torture did this.

She offered something different out loud though. "Old habits die hard, huh?" She reached over and pushed the button that lowered the window, and then pressed it again to raise it again right away.

Rachel glanced over and shrugged.

"Apparently so if by that you mean my defensive state." She looked over and Quinn was giving her the eyebrow. She sighed and looked back over. " Look, I believe you weren't trying to insult me. I'm sorry. I'm also pretty tired…" she trailed off.

Quinn smiled a little at that, relieved beyond what was probably reasonable to have gotten through to the singer. She shook her head. "And no kidding right? I'm exhausted too."

They fell quiet again as they got closer to the Fabray neighborhood. She watched the wind whip leaves across the road. The bright sunlight cut in and out through the branches of the trees. She was looking forward to the week after Thanksgiving, and not having to wear her uniform every day.

She blinked several times as it suddenly occurred to her that Thanksgiving was this Thursday. How had that slipped her mind? She let her head bump gently a few times against her window. She enjoyed the feel of the cold glass pressed to her temple as she pondered the looking long weekend. Forget classes and the tests she had to study for. It was going to be an altogether different holiday this year, she realized. She didn't even know what 'the Plan' was. Was Em coming home? Would her dad suddenly show up and make everything uncomfortable?

She hit the lock button for the car doors, and then hit unlock and then lock again. Not satisfied, she then hit the down button on the window, cracking it half way, and took breath of the crisp air before rolling it up again. Rachel glanced over and gave her a quizzical look.

The cheerleader looked apologetic and sheepish. "Sorry. I like to push buttons…?"

There was a chuckle that was completely unforced. "Wow. If THAT isn't a loaded statement, I don't know what is…"

Quinn cut her eyes and quirked her eyebrow but didn't respond right away. She readjusted her seatbelt for the umpteenth time. "Yeah, yeah. So look. I was just trying to say that you might be hearing it differently than I meant is all." She reached to play with the buttons on the door once more before she stopped herself and clasped her hand tightly in her lap. "Sooo yeah. Earlier? So maybe what I meant to say, or should have said is more along the lines of say… you look good now…in your jeans. I don't know why you would bother changing."

_Wow. You are smooth Q._

She snapped her jaw firmly before adding lamely. "That's all. I bet Finn would think so too."

Rachel swallowed and kept her eyes on the road. But she was smiling.

"Thank you Quinn."

They pulled into the Fabray driveway behind the Volvo that Rachel assumed must belong to Quinn's mom. "That is a very safe car. I approve."

Quinn grabbed her things and leaned in grinning cheekily.

"I'll be sure to let my mom know that her car is Berry approved."

Rachel smiled. "I'm sure she'll be relieved to hear it. As far as safety features go. I do feel I have to say that it leaves something to be desired in the area of fossil fuel consumption."

"Okay, I'll tell her it gets three out of four stars on the Berry scale?"

"Three point five."

"Hey, not bad, she'll be honored."

"No doubt" Rachel said archly.

"Well, this where I get off, Berry." She squeezed her eyes shut and groaned inwardly.

_Shut it. Don't even._ She warned herself.

_Eh. That was too easy anyway._

She lurched out of the car, then turned around, holding the door partially open. She leaned in to block the chilly breeze as she tried to figure out what to say.

"So…"

"So…?"

"Have a good Sunday…whatever?"

"I'll try Quinn." She pulled her lips to one side. "We should perhaps probably talk some more at some point about—"

"Yeah. If you want to, I think that might be a good idea. Maybe…later in the week. Or…"

"Or…."

"Well, why don't you text me this evening? I mean if you're not up too late, or you go to bed early, or your dads and you are watching a movie…or…?"

"I'll text you Quinn." Her brow furrowed and she squinted a bit before she spoke. "Or, well you could text me too?"

"Yeah. Yeah I could do that."

"Or like maybe even…call?"

She smiled. "I could. Maybe I will." She smiled sincerely, before she qualified it. "I'm not saying I can for sure. At least today or tonight I mean, like specifically." Her face got screwy as she looked around. "I don't mean like in the way that well, after…what happened. Sometimes…maybe, I don't know, people don't call. I'm just saying." She rubbed the bridge of her nose and squinted back. "It's just, my mom and I haven't seen her. And I don't know when you'll be home. Or what time is too late, and all that…"

_When did you become so prone to rambling like an infant? Use your grownup words, Q._

"Quinn, hey, I get it. I know. That's okay. I mean, we'll just….text later? Right? And if you call, great. If not…well, maybe later. Or tomorrow. Or something."

The brunette took a deep breath and gripped the steering wheel tightly again, as she tried not to grimace.

The blonde poked at the running board and the open car door frame with the toe of her shoe. There was no end to her fidgeting today it seemed, Rachel noted. Or maybe she was stalling she thought, which was kind of sweet.

"Right. Okay then. I should…"

"Yes, Quinn. It's cold out. You look cold. I don't want you to catch cold on my account. You should, you know, get inside. And…please thank your mother for the pizza."

"Oh, sure, okay, I will."

"Okay then. I had a good time. And, if you get your run in today after all, bundle up okay? "

"Absolutely. Can't let the Glee Co-captain down, can I?" Quinn smiled and took a one more deep breath. "I had a good time Rachel."

"Superlative even?" Rachel joked back, glad to be able say something, anything, to break the bubble of awkwardness that had enveloped them.

Quinn snorted and rolled her eyes and grinned lopsidedly. "Yes, superlative even I would say. Okay Berry. I think we have stretched this awkward moment as much as we possibly can don't you? I'm just going to go now."

"Yes, I'll have to concur that we have pretty much tortured it into submission. Bye Quinn. Uh, communicate with you later."

"Later. Rachel."

She leaned for one more second on the car door frame before giving a quick wave of her hand. Then she gave a big smile. In fact, it was a huge, exaggerated, overly bright and deliberately fake smile. Rachel looked a little alarmed, but then she gave the same one right back. Then they both shook their heads, and laughed, recognizing they were both making fun of themselves and the moment.

Which is a much better way to leave it; Quinn thought as she shut the door and headed towards her house. What had happened between them, whether it was good, bad or awesome? It was still completely unexpected and weird. What else could they do?

"Well that was painfully awkward," she announced to no one as she walked around to the back entrance.

Rachel eased her car to the edge of the driveway and waited to make sure Quinn in fact went in to her house. It was the polite thing to do she told herself. She watched from the car as Quinn picked her way to the side of the house. To what she thought was the servants' entrance just a yesterday. Quinn had a bit of a bounce in her step, and it didn't go unnoticed. Rachel smiled to herself and shook her head quickly, but couldn't shake the grin.

Quinn turned her head and realized Rachel hadn't pulled out yet, and smiled a little as she realized what she was doing. She opened the outside door and then turned to give the singer an exaggerated thumbs up' sign. She could only barely make out the energetic goodbye way from the tiny girl. She didn't bother suppressing her own smile as she opened the door and ducked into the mudroom.

Her mom looked up as she came through into the warm kitchen. She smiled and kept bustling around.

"Hey sweetie. Did you have a good time? Are you hungry? There are leftovers. And…I was going to make some Chex Mix maybe."

Quinn was still smiling. "I had…fun." She smiled even more broadly knowing it was the unexpected truth. And also at the prospect of her mom's Chex Mix. It was one of her favorite snacks.

"Yeah, it was fun, mom. But noooo, no not at all hungry. I'll have to have the Chex Mix later. I had all kinds of food last night and this morning. And unfortunately I waited too late to let Mercedes know if I wasn't coming, so I've got to put my head in over there too. I think I'm going to explode."

She paused, wondering if Judy was going to make any comments about keeping her trim figure with all that food. She took her bag and set it on the stairs. She headed back to the kitchen, pleasantly surprised at the silence on the topic.

Her mom was just opening the can of peanuts she was going to need to make the snack, and stole a few. Quinn opened the fridge and reached for the cranberry juice as Judy kept moving energetically about.

When her mom turned away to get a bowl down, she darted over and stole a handful of the freshly opened peanuts. Her mom gasped and laughed as she smacked her hands away. "Did you not just say you were about to bust? I thought you weren't hungry!"

"Protein. It's good for me. Building blocks of…whatever."

"Well, no more. I need two cups." Quinn shrugged and grinned and then popped one into her mouth. "So, how about you mom? Did you have a good time out?"

"I did, thank you. And I'm glad you enjoyed yourself at…"

"Rachel. Rachel Berry" Quinn supplied.

"Ah, yes. I'm glad you enjoyed yourself at Rachel's house."

_Oh, if she only knew Q, eh? Indeed, an excellent time was had by all._

She forcefully twisted off the cap to the cranberry juice, putting yet another dent in the side of her mouth, simmering in her head.

_Knock it off. In front of mom? Ew. Just wrong. And Ew. So…la la la, I can't hear you._

Judy handed her two glasses, and she poured one for each of them. She handed her mom one glass and immediately commenced to chugging her own. She was suddenly terribly thirsty.

"You know sweetie, it's nice to see you having fun. It shows you know, if that makes sense? Like the way they say laughter is the best medicine?"

Quinn nodded and made non-committal sounds around her glass as she kept drinking

"Well just like that, when you're happy it shows on your face sweetie. It really does. And it makes you even more lovely."

She finished her juice and swallowed before looking at her mom. Her mom looked relaxed and fairly happy too. A big improvement over six months ago certainly. "Thanks mom. As for you, it seems to me you look pretty happy too. It looks good on you too."

Her mom smiled a little and nodded in agreement. "It feels good. Different than I've been for awhile, I know sweetie."

Quinn didn't know how to answer that so she just looked at her glass and nodded.

Judy took sip of her juice and looked at her over the rim. "So what is on for today? Is your current beau coming over, or is it going to be just us for dinner plus whatever holiday movies they're pushing tonight?"

"Hm. I'm not sure yet. Can I let you know later? I mean if you'd rather it just be us tonight, I'm more than fine with that. It's been a busy weekend and all."

Judy looked pleasantly surprised. "Well, sweetie, it's up to you, but a just us girls sounds good to me."

It really was nice to see her mom pleased, and not in a self-satisfied 'told you so' kind of way. Maybe that is what her mom had been trying to tell her. Happy people just look better. She smiled back at her mom.

"Okay, I'll see what I can do mom."

_Way to chicken out seeing Blonde Boy Wonder there Q._

_Kiss my ass._

_Ooh, we're grumpy now are we? What, is someone tired?_

She slammed her empty glass down in the sink, glad of the rubberized guard there or she would have probably broken it.

_Fuck off._

_Yep, Q. You are tired because you lesbian love-bunnies were up entertaining the Unicorns with your—_

She pushed away from the sink abruptly. "Right mom. Hey. I'm gonna check with Mercedes, I think I might want a run." Not only did she want a run, she needed a run she amended in her head.

"Oh, well…okay then sweetie." Judy looked at her daughter oddly. "It's cold out, so…"

"Yep, I'll bundle up." She reached for her phone, hoping there wasn't another message or text to worry about. She waved at her mom and grinned again at her mother's mock glare when she snagged a few more peanuts as she headed upstairs.

She looked at the time on the phone, knowing it would be a few more minutes before her friend got out of church. She went ahead and sent a text anyway.

_**Quinn:**_ Hey. Have to get in a run. Is 1:30 too late? Let me know, and I'll adjust. Have phone on me.

If it really was a problem, which it almost certainly wouldn't be, she could always cut her route short. She breathed in and felt some of the pressure in her chest start to ease up just a little. By God, she was going to get that head-clearing run she so clearly needed.

_Well, Q, you can run but you can't hide._

_I can live with that at the moment._

**####****####**

**A/N: Short and sweet: Can I get a hell yeah for Liverpool win! Yay! : ) **

**A/N: 2 Oh, and obviously the song is a Van Morrison song, 'Caravan.' I don't know why, but that song always makes me happy. I have been pointing to the evidence of it's inherent coolness (to certain people, ahem, who disagree...) ever since I saw ****Mary Louise Parker's character on ****an old episode of West Wing belting it out. You just can't argue with that.  
**


	33. Chapter 33

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up has already aired.  
**Rated:** R for language

**A/N: ****Thank you all for again for the lovely reviews and the adds/alerts. Not that the alerts do much these days. They seem to average about 2 days behind actual post time! I have tons of reading to go catching up on now myself! : ) **

**A/N: Also, sorry so long between updates. Hellacious week of work! Bah. Yet another dog injury. Errands. Blah blah blah. Oh okay. I might have been geeking out playing games too. It happens. Hope you enjoy this chapter though!**

**########**

Rachel tapped her fingers along with one of the short musical interludes on the radio. She had opted for NPR rather than music. Besides, she liked _Wait Wait Don't Tell Me_. And Paula Poundstone was on the panel. She always held out hope that somehow she would win. She was still waiting when the Lightening Round ended.

_Maybe next time._

Then there was the obvious fact that she wanted her mind occupied. Very occupied. So listening to a humorous quiz on the news events of the week was almost certainly a better idea than listening to music and letting her mind wander along with torch songs.

_Okay. Back to the house to pick up notes. And change. Maybe. Maybe not. I AM pretty comfortable in this._

Her dads were still in the kitchen. Daddy was doing the New York Times Crossword, and her dad was reading the movie reviews before deciding what they might go see later. Their Sunday ritual. Of course this Sunday had been unlike any Sunday morning she'd ever had. Heat rushed to her face as she picked her notes up from the living room. She took the folder of Spanish notes and fanned her face with it for a minute. Her dad called from the kitchen.

"Hey Sweetie. Off to study with whatshisname?" She gave them a death glare that she realized they couldn't fully appreciate. So she sauntered into the kitchen and slid into a seat. They both glanced up at her expectantly. She waited until she had their attention.

"Olaf? Yes. We're going to study and then maybe skiing and hot-tubbing at his chalet in Berne…"

Both men dropped the papers they were holding and looked at her sharply.

"What?" "Who's Olaf?"

She smirked and replied breezily. "Oh, I dumped Finn. You guys should really keep up. Yeah, he got whiny about how my two well-meaning but humor-impaired dads were always making fun of him for eating too much or for being too…big. I got tired of it and dumped him for Olaf. He loves Opera."

"Ha Ha." Jonathan picked up his paper again.

"You're a funny girl. Is Olaf a vegan?" Curtis looked at Jonathan snorted. "Olaf. Pfft."

Then Curtis looked at her drolly. "Anyway. So are you and Olaf going to study first and then make googly eyes at each other? Or is it going to be vice versa."

The diva snorted and put her notes in her backpack.

"I don't know why I put up with you two. We're going to study…" She looked at her watch, realizing it was lunchtime. "Well, great. It's lunchtime. Finn…I mean Olaf is useless after he eats for at least an hour. I guess I'll get going though, and maybe get him back on track sooner rather than later." Placing her hands flat on the table, she stood up.

"Well, Statler." She looked at first one, and then the other. "Waldorf. I'm off."

She abruptly bent and grabbed her backpack and headed for the door to the garage off the kitchen. "Enjoy whatever movie you goobers settle on. I look forward to your critique later."

Curtis looked up and her, puzzled. "What? You're not going to change into—OW!" The tall man reached for his shin and looked daggers at his husband.

Jonathan raised his eyebrow, tilted his head and then shook his head meaningfully. Curtis narrowed his eyes. Then he smiled and nodded slowly. "Uh, have fun. Study hard. Bring Olaf by so we can check him out sometime."

"Yeah yeah. Olaf has to be at his villa on Monday, so don't hold your breath. I don't know if I'm staying for dinner or not. I'll let you know."

"Okay kiddo. You know we love you. We're just messing with you."

She sighed dramatically as she opened the door.

"I know dad. Sheesh."

"Finn is a pretty good kid. It could be a lot worse, Curtis." Jonathan gave him a look as he said this. They'd heard what had happened to Quinn. They had been young men once too.

"I know that. Well I'm just saying that Rachel doesn't NEED anyone. To be complete I mean. It's our job to remind her of that. What have we always told you? A woman needs a man like—"

Jonathan and Rachel completed the statement together. "A fish needs a bicycle."

"I know." The brunette stated again. She didn't know what she was supposed to get out of that. Who was the fish, who was the bicycle? She was too tired to ponder today.

"She knows." Jonathan said, hoping it was true.

He sighed as he thought about it. He had been much more like Rachel growing up. He had more in common with her at that age than his self-assured, ex-jock husband had. So he knew a little more where his daughter's mild tendency towards co-dependent behaviors might stem from. He shook his head and squeezed Curtis' knee. It was an old argument. Not argument really. They just sometimes came at things from a different perspective. But they usually did a good job of presenting a united front and consistent message to their only child.

Curtis took a deep breath and added an addendum to his statement.

"But yes, Finn is a pretty nice kid. I'm just saying he should realize he is lucky to have our daughter as a friend. Much less girlfriend." He looked at Jonathan who nodded his approval subtly.

_Exactly. __You could have slept with Puck like Quinn—  
_

_Lalalalala. No Quinn. We said no thoughts of Quinn.  
And yeah. Finn IS lucky. Dammit. Right?  
_

She held the door open before she looked back. "Exactly," she said with an unusual amount of conviction. Her dads looked at each other with raised eyebrows after she shut the door.

"Well that was new."

"I wonder what Olaf would be like. Maybe he would eat less."

Curtis narrowed his eyes and rubbed his chin. "I wonder what the feminine form of the name Olaf is. Olafa?"

"What? Why? And no. There is no feminine form of the name Olaf. Let's see that is probably Norwegian. So, perhaps an Astrid or a Bjorn. Ooh, or Sigrid."

"Honey?"

Jonathan looked up from his fingers where he was enumerating the more common Norwegian names. He paused and waited. "Yes?"

Curtis tucked his chin in his hand and smiled at him, shaking his head. "Never mind."

"Huh? I'm missing something aren't I? You're making fun of me."

"Just…never mind for now. So you were saying. Astrid? What about Ingrid, as in Bergmen?"

Jonathan narrowed his eyes, but allowed himself to be distracted. "Yes, Ingrid certainly. Olaf could also be Irish you know. Of course Ireland was repeatedly invaded by a variety of Viking types. Not that Viking is a type. It was originally a verb, but you know…"

Curtis kept smiling and biting on his lip trying not to laugh on the one hand, and cry on the other as he endured a mini lecture on Jonathan's take on the obvious link between Scandanvian incursions in the North Sea area and the later instances of Olaf as an Irish name. When his husband paused for breath he was able to surreptitiously take a look at his watch. He started wondering if they were going to make the matinee after all, or if he should just go get a beer and settle in for the afternoon, as it was evident his partner was warming even more, if possible, to his topic.

"Hang on, just a second there."

The sound of a two beers being opened caught Jonathan's attention. He scrunched up his face and looked mildly chagrined. Curtis returned to the table and set one of the amber beers down in front of his husband. Then he turned his chair around and straddled it, resting his arms on it.

"Viking raids in the Irish Sea you were saying?"

Jonathan grinned. "Well, you know near the last century of the first millennium, CE that is course…"

"Or A.D. as some of us like to say."

"Oh come on now…"

"Yanking your chain. Viking raids. And...go."

**########**

Quinn had managed to suit up to run in the short five minutes since leaving her mother mildly puzzled in the kitchen. She was just tucking her hair under her hat and putting in her one earbud. Her mother eyed her now.

"Keep an eye out for—"

"Traffic and potholes, I know mom. Back in a bit."

If there was one thing she could do that would completely take her mind off everything for a short time at least, it was a run. She cued up her Techno playlist and headed out.

Proofs and functions and theorems danced in her head as the rhythm pounded relentlessly in her ears. At least she could get in some review before the test this week.

Too soon she'd run almost five miles and found herself heading up the gentle slope of her hill. But her body and her head felt like they were in the same place for the moment, and that was all she could ask for.

_Who would have thought I would ever use Calculus for anything?_

She checked her phone. Sam had called. She stripped off her jacket and her hat as she listened, detached, to the message.

"Hey babe. Uh…So are we still on for this evening? We could, I don't know, review for the Calculus test on Wednesday? Or we could even." She hit the end button before hearing the whole thing.

What is it with him calling her babe? When did she ever like that? Had she? She sighed and grimaced.

_Suck it up Fabray._

She headed upstairs, removing her running shoes and rooted around for something to wear to the Jones' while she scrolled her contacts for his number and hit the call button. She'd just explain to him, calmly, that her mom wanted a girl's night in. He'd be fine with it.

"Hey Babe, I thought you'd gone AWOL on me." She heard him chuckle through the line. "So, I don't need to like, provide an alibi and distract the media while you stow the body in your trunk?"

She grabbed a shirt and underwear and stopped.

"What?"

"Uh, you know. Rachel? You guys spent all day together? I'm just checking here. I mean, you guys can get really, well intense? Er, volatile?"

_Volatile. That's one word for it, eh Q? How about explosive, passionate—_

_And we're back. Awesome. _

_Hey! Awesome, that one too. Exquisite, lascivious, sordid —_

"Oh. My. God. Shut UP!"

"Uh, sorry?" Sam's voice almost squeaked. She could practically see him cowering.

She gritted her teeth as she realized she'd spoken out loud. She squeezed her eyes and dug the heel of her hand into her eye socket in frustration.

"I'm sorry Sam. It's…Mr. Hurley. Next door. He's uh, leaf-blowing."

"Oh, okay" he responded a little uncertainly. "I didn't mean to—"

She sat on the bed and flopped dramatically backwards.

"I know Sam. I'm sorry, he just shut off the blower now. Listen about tonight? Mom is feeling a little clingy or something since I spent the night at—"

_Crap. I am losing my mind._

She hadn't meant to share that information. She hurried on before he had a chance to say anything.

"At Rachel's. Anyway. Mom wants me all to herself. We'll probably eat ice cream and watch _Thelma and Louise_." She smiled knowing that would certainly fit in with Sam's perception of the kind of chick flick Quinn, HBIC might watch. She grinned evilly to herself as she enjoyed the silence on his end. Finally she broke the silence.

"So. I was thinking, how about Tuesday night instead? We can have some pizza and study?"

Sam sounded a little resigned. "Oh. Okay. Huh. Isn't that the one where the two shoot a guy and they go on the run and drive—"

"Yes? Yes, it is. Do you have a problem with that?"

"Me? Uh no! No problem here. Hm, yeah you all have a girls' night in." She tapped her fingers while she waited for him to agree to her plans like he always did.

"And Tuesday study night sounds good. And if by study you mean your mom will be out for the evening and we can—"

"Sam! I mean study!" Why were boys always like that? Any alone time seemed to be license to make-out and attempt to dry hump something. Or someone. It was so annoying. To make her point more clear she informed him her mother would be around. "Besides, mom will probably be here making…pumpkin pie or something. I don't know."

"Oh."

"Yes. Oh. So, Tuesday? We can still talk and hang out. Oh, and you know, perhaps, oh, actually study. Since it's like one third of our grade?"

She knew he had the puppy look even if she couldn't see it.

"Sure babe, that sounds great."

"Okay, great. See you in class tomorrow."

"Uh. Okay. Have a great Sunday, Quinn."

"You too, Sam." Normally she would text him later, but she didn't make that comment or promise today.

She bounced off the bed and headed to the shower, proud of herself for arranging to spend the evening with her mom.

_Brava! Nice work. No lady lips tonight. Which really, are a poor substitute, aren't they Q.  
Pretty sure I told you to fuck off.  
_

Quinn turned on the water for her shower and finished stripping down. She got to her underwear and looked down at the cotton mauve, and her skin prickled.

_What'cha thinking about now Q?  
Really. Go fuck yourself._

_Well, I knew you'd come around…_

Cold water. Blissfully freezing, blissfully cold water.

**########**

After drying her hair and throwing on jeans and another sweater, she was lacing up her shoes before she decided to call ahead to make sure she was still expected, as it had gotten late.

"Go for Mercedes."

Quinn giggled. "Mercedes, you know how you said I couldn't pull off 'true dat'?"

"Yes…?"

"Yeah..." she stretched out the word. "Go for Mercedes?"

She heard a sigh on the other end. "Not so much?"

"Not so much."

"Fair enough. Thought I'd try it out. So girl! How was the rest of your day yesterday? You sure sound, well I don't know. Peppy? Did you catch it from Rachel?" She quietly laughed at her own cleverness.

Quinn smiled and arched her eyebrow. "Peppy?"

"Energetic?"

It was true the run and the freezing cold shower had her exceedingly awake, that was for sure. She wasn't sure how long that was going to last considering she hadn't gotten a lot of sleep for reasons she was not allowing herself to even think about, much less divulge to one of the top gossip mongers at McKinley. Nonetheless she was pleased that her fatigue wasn't showing too badly.

"Energetic. Okay, I can see that. I had a good run. Speaking of which, I'm on my way."

"Well get on over here then. Collard greens are gone, sorry."

"Pulling out of the driveway now. And I'm not that hungry, really. Okay, I could probably eat maybe one biscuit. Maybe…."

Mercedes looked at the busy kitchen and watched her brother getting seconds of the potatoes and chicken. "Plenty of biscuits. Down to dark meat on the chicken. Cal is here."

"On my way."

**########**

The warm smell of food was enough to make Quinn hungry all over again. She did just come from a five mile run after all. One biscuit with some potatoes wouldn't kill her.

"Hi Cal, it's good to see you. How is college treating you?"

"Eh, Alright. Studying hard" he added for his mother's benefit.

"The parties are off the hook" he whispered as he walked by and winked at her.

"I heard that Calvin. I also hear there are some dishes that will need to be taken care of and put away when everybody is through." He closed his eyes shut and made a pained face.

Quinn made a sympathetic face. "I'll help you" she whispered back.

Mercedes watched her eat nibble on her biscuit after her brother left to the living room. "What is wrong with you? Let the boy do the dishes for once. Jeez."

"Well I feel bad, he wouldn't have said that if I hadn't asked about school."

"Serves him right for trying to show off and run his mouth to a girl."

"Okay, fine. No dishes."

**########**

Half an hour later, Quinn had followed a smirking Mercedes upstairs, leaving Calvin to 'wash up.'

"So now." Mercedes sat on her bed cross-legged and clapped her hands. "Tell me about the rest of your day. I hear you went incommunicado last night and so did Berry. Not that I bet Hudson didn't breathe a sigh of relief at that. I was starting to think maybe the whole Berry Cult, er Clan might have taken you hostage or something."

Quinn felt eyes narrow reflexively at the mention of Finn. She answered more snappishly than she meant to. "Hey. That's not true. That asshat was texting her, and really he just wanted to come over and scam some leftovers. Can you believe it? I mean. Come on. I suppose he could be treating her like a piece of meat instead of just using her to get meat."

The fact that Mercedes was now looking at her like she had three heads was her first clue that perhaps her response had been a little more vehement, or a tad less subtle than what she had been going for.

Quinn watched her open her mouth and then shut it again. "Okay then. I'm just going to absorb that for a bit here."

The blonde groaned. "Bacon. I meant…he wanted leftovers. And bacon? He wanted to come over and just…have bacon. He would have come over for leftover crepes if he'd had any idea what they were. Which he didn't. " She ended meekly. She watched Mercedes tilt her head. When she reached for her phone, the blonde snaked out a hand and snatched it. "Ah ah. I don't think you need this to ponder anything."

"What? "

"I'm not stupid Mercedes. You were going to text Kurt."

"I was not."

"You were."

"I was going to…maybe check my texts from…earlier?" She finished her sentence with fake sincerity and innocence.

Quinn growled and tossed the phone back. "Show me."

Mercedes rolled her eyes and looked through her text history. She found what she was looking for and turned it around to show her the text conversation bubbles.

**Kurt:** _Something is afoot_.**  
Mercedes:** _What? Who?  
_**Kurt:** _Not sure. RB here. There seems less joy in Berry-Hudsonville today  
_**Mercedes:** _Spidey senses a'twitter?  
_**Kurt:** _They're doing a sailor's hornpipe, baby_.  
**Mercedes:** _Ew. I know we're close but I don't need to hear about your hornpipe_.  
**Mercedes: **_Although, maybe you should put that on damnyouautocorrectdotcom  
_**Kurt:** _It's a jig, woman. My senses are doing a jig! Never mind. I need to get out of this backwater. More later woman.  
_**Kurt: **_Kurt out._

Quinn took the phone along with a deep breath. She didn't know what to expect. She read through it and started to giggle. God, but she was tired now, and somehow the stupid sailor's hornpipe had her giggling now instead of throwing up which would probably be the more appropriate response given that Kurt felt like he was 'on to something' in regards to her and Rachel. But she just kept giggling. And now Mercedes was looking at her even more askance. Actually, askance didn't really cover it.

"Uh, Q?"

"Hornpipe, BWAH ha ha."

"Uh huh. Okay then. Like you knew it was a dance of some kind. Please. I'm going to go grab us some glasses of milk and a piece of cobbler." She looked at her for a moment.

"Okay, Q. You uh, you just…you just stay right there."

Quinn nodded, tears starting to come out the corners of her eyes she was laughing so hard.

Mercedes shook her head. "Crazy person says huh?"

"Huh?" Quinn looked at her and then started laughing harder.

"Umhmm."

Yep. This was going to be interesting. Mercedes looked regretfully at the phone in the cheerleader's hand. And she couldn't even call or text Kurt. Damn.

**A/N; Okay, for work again this week, but back at it in a few days. Go Liverpool! Reading and reviewing makes the injured dog happy. ; ) Actually, being able to play normally without being yelled at would make her more happy. But in the meantime…I'm just sayin. ; ) Go Vols! Boo UConn.**

**Also, if you've never been to damnautocorrectdotcom... or similar, I cry laughing every time.  
**


	34. Chapter 34

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up to…Silly Love Songs I think.  
**Rated:** R for language

**A/N: Well…still Unbeta'd. Sorry for all mistakes, feel free to point them out. Reviews would still be very much appreciated, as we all know authors live off of them, even part time authors like moi. **

**A/N 2: Thanks for everyone's reviews and add and alerts and message, especially considering all the alerts were on the fritz! I owe of lot of reading and reviewing myself now. I plan to catch up on after tomorrow! No more traveling for work for a few weeks, so will be more on the ball now! Sorry if this is a little choppy. :/ I do have that job thing and all, and it insinuates itself…**** I play fast and loose with some timelines too a wee bit. oh well! Hope you still enjoy this one.  
**

* * *

**__****####**  


Rachel switched the radio station repeatedly, nothing making her happy. She wasn't in the mood for more talk radio, and she didn't know what music was going to match her mood. She pushed scan and left it there. It wasn't a long drive to the Hummel house anyway.

When she pulled into the driveway on autopilot, she realized she wasn't quite sure how she arrived there. She gripped the wheel tightly and chastised herself for not being a more conscientious driver. Then she noted Kurt's dad's car was still in the driveway, and felt an unfamiliar wave of relief. She did a gut check and admitted it would be an understatement to say she wasn't in the mood to be 'home alone' with Finn today. She wasn't sure if she hoped Kurt would be there or not. They had become closer lately, but she also knew the boy could be preternaturally observant at the most inconvenient times. She chuckled to herself as she exited the car and grabbed her book bag, wondering what the self-proclaimed fashion maven would make of her atypical attire.

Burt Hummel opened the door and smiled, pleased to see her. "Hi there Rachel. Come on in. The boys are downstairs." He opened the door wider and turned towards the stairs and called out. "Guys! Rachel's here."

Rachel winced as he bellowed, but transformed it into a smile as he turned back to her. "Hello Mr. Hummel. How are you feeling today? I understand Kurt made some lovely food yesterday."

"Not too bad. How about yourself? Hey, come on and get on in here. It's cold out there and you must be cold out there. And yeah, the lettuce wrap whatchamacallits? Yeah, yeah, they really were pretty darn good. That kid has great taste, doesn't he? Gets it from his mom obviously. I'm not sure Finn appreciated them though." He shrugged and grinned at her. "More for me though, right?"

"Absolutely, Mr. Hummel. Your son has excellent taste." She smiled genuinely up at him and stepped inside. As she unwound her scarf, she heard quick steps thumping lightly up the stairs. She was unsurprised to see that it was Kurt and not Finn who had appeared. The steps were too light to be Finn's, and secondly, she knew Finn was probably in a food coma.

"Why Miss Berry, you look ever so…normal today."

Behind her, out of her sight, Burt dropped his head to the side, gave his son the stinkeye, and raised his eyebrow. Kurt took note of that and hurried to cover his blunt comment with praise.

"I like this look on you. That pseudo-claret color looks lovely on you. And the jeans? I didn't know you owned any." He sounded almost surprised that he meant it.

She smiled shyly at the compliment.

Burt nodded his head at his son in approval. "Alright kids, I'll be in the garage for awhile now that I'm all fueled. Nice to see you Rachel. Good luck with Finn and studying. Kurt, you wanna help out with that carburetor, or are you good here?"

Kurt's eyes widened in disbelief. "No! No. Dad. Did you listen to nothing the doctors and nurses told you? Have you lost your mind? No you don't. No garage for you. No heavy work yet dad, you know that. Now park it. I'll grab the remote and some tea for you. To the couch." He pointed imperiously.

The older man cut his eyes to the right, then up at the ceiling and let his shoulders sag.

"Oh fine. Just please, plain mint this time? Please? No herbal...stress tea or whatever. Rachel, please make him stick to mint?"

Rachel gave Kurt's dad a huge smile. She genuinely liked the man, it was impossible not to. "I'll do my best Mr. Hummel. Although I have to say there are some excellent herbal tea blends available…" She trailed off as she saw the pleading look on the man's face. She nodded her head resolutely. "Mint it is, I'll make sure of it."

_**####**_

The tired looking man nodded back and half-smiled. He was happy his son was better friends with the little spitfire diva now. She could be a bit much. Of course when he met her, it was in less than ideal circumstances, back when his son had wanted to sing 'Defying Gravity.' But this year Kurt told him they had achieved a separate peace of sorts outside of the inherently competitive aspects of glee club. He knew they didn't always see eye to eye, but it didn't sound like it spilled over into non-glee lives.

There was that change. But there was also that fact that sometimes, still, he heard the strains of 'Papa Can You Hear Me' wandering through his dreams. It wasn't until Kurt told him not long ago about some of the Glee clubbers standing watch over him that he understood where it came from.

Yes, he liked Rachel Berry. She was good people.

"Alright. Alright. Football on the couch it is. Bengals and the Bills. I'm sure it'll be a barn burner." He sighed and shuffled back to the living room. Kurt smiled at his dad as he grabbed his cap and turned to go.

Kurt smiled at the retreating back but appended his instructions with a stern look. "Hey dad, now no shouting, no getting excited. Don't make me put it on Bravo for you."

He waited for the predictable low-pitched non-verbal grousing. "It's the Bengals son. Don't worry." Satisfied his dad was going to behave, Kurt turned his attention to Rachel as he grabbed her arm to steer her to the kitchen.

**__****####**

As filled the kettle and turned the burner to high he watched her out of the corner of his eye.

"Hey there. You look tired. Finn is on the couch and won't move for a bit. You know how he is. Food Coma City. I know there is studying to be done. He asked, well, actually he grunted to be more accurate, your name and said the word 'food.' Naturally, I took this to mean I should inquire as to whether you've eaten yet and if not offer you some repast."

Tired as she was, Rachel still smiled at Kurt's dramatic descriptions and listened as he continued.

"So. Here at Chez Hummel, I do believe we have some of that soy substance you call cheese and some whole grain bread. We can have a snack and just chat. Just…relax." He smiled at her.

She was mildly suspicious that Kurt wanted to 'chat' but didn't voice it. Instead she smiled graciously back but shook her head in the negative.

"Thank you but no Kurt, I'm really not hungry. We had a big dinner last night, and then a big breakfast this morning. Some tea would be lovely though?"

He nodded and shut the refrigerator. "Alrighty then. Can do." He was glad enough not make any more food now. This faithful manservant/host business was for the birds.

Rachel cut into his pity party, bringing him back.

"Oh, by the way, I have to say those lettuce wraps sounded lovely last night. I'm sure everyone loved them."

He rolled his eyes dramatically but didn't answer.

He sniffed as he got out cups for all three of them. "Yes, so lovely that I dad got to eat Finn's portion. At least everyone else tried them. Even Puck." He looked at her sideways and continued. "He seemed perplexed that you didn't scurry to invite him over. My words, not his, obviously. And then…something about a bad phone connection?" Kurt watched her closely and saw her color up immediately.

"Ahem, yes, it was a little windy out I think, and it was probably bad reception. But at least I was able to communicate that there wasn't any food left over from dinner. At least not that he would want."

Kurt's mouth went a bit round as if he was going to whistle, but he just commented casually. "No doubt." He crossed his legs at the ankle and leaned back against the kitchen counter. So. Finn had wanted to break out of their group yesterday to go score more food. For such a relatively decent guy, Finn was such an ass sometimes.

"So. How did the rest of your afternoon go yesterday? You know how mine went. I fed the horde while we tried to come up with some songs. And yes, we were finally successful, and no, I'm not telling you what they are. I may be with you guys in spirit, but I sticking with the boys this year."

"Well you are Team Boy, so I guess that makes sense." She cracked a smile at him.

He noticed she didn't snap at the bait of possibly stealing competitive secrets as she usually would. This piqued his interest even more. But he wasn't sure how to get any more out of her in the limited time he had. Finn's downtime was unpredictable when it came to food coma. He decided to be unusually direct.

"Yeah yeah. You are a funny girl. So, come on! Did you guys come up with anything? I thought since I had Finn and the boys tied up, you might have cornered Quinn into getting the rest of the women folk together for a brain storm session." He paused casually. "But I know Mercedes said she didn't hear about anything of that nature. Or from you or Quinn at all actually." He paused. "Then again, you WERE having phone issues, weren't you?"

"Yes, that darn phone." She pulled the offending object from her pocket to look at it, just in case there were messages. From anybody, nobody in particular really.

_Yeah right._

Her lips pulled tight as she confirmed there was no new message. She rubbed her thumb over the buttons restlessly before looking up.

"So? Did you?"

"What? I'm sorry?"

"Corner Q about picking some songs for the next week? You two have been disturbingly…chummy of late. We've all been enjoying your little détente you know." He raised his eyebrows as he concluded his observation. "Even if it is a little…odd."

She had been enjoying it rather a lot too. And that was even before last night.

_Lalalalalala. Crap. Look. You were enjoying, you know, just getting to know her!  
Yeah? Is that all?  
Absolutely. Like how she doesn't know Monty Python. Or Titanic. How she likes bacon.  
Uh huh. Or how about how you give her goosebumps. Or how the skin at the base of her breastbone smells a bit like coconut or baked cookies. How the curve of her hipbone feels…_

Kurt observed the abnormally silent girl as she bit her lip and twiddled her hair. This was just weird.

"Earth to Rachel?"

The sound of Kurt's voice pulled her eyes towards him. He was looking at her with narrowed eyes.

"Hm? " Then she gulped and quickly crossed her arms, and she shook her hair and head attempting to be casual.

"I'm sorry Kurt. I wasn't intending to be rude, I just didn't sleep very…much."

He looked at her sharply. Instantly, she remembered why it was never a good idea to give Kurt too much information. It was uncanny what he could piece together.

"Much?"

_Crap. Crap crap crap. Much? Why didn't you just say 'well'? Much and well? Two very different things. You didn't' sleep much, but you slept perfectly 'well' when you did finally sleep, didn't you?_

She checked herself, tried to change the subject and smiled ingratiatingly at him.

"I mean well, I didn't sleep WELL. Stress you know. Lots of tests this week? Regionals coming up." She fidgeted and tucked her hair

"Uh huh. I see. Tests." His face and his dry comment indicated he thought she was full of it.

He crossed his arms, looked over at the door to the downstairs and back at the diva. Finn had been home all night, he was certain. Call of Duty was not something one could sleep through.

Odd. Because with the way Rachel was acting, he'd swear she'd been up to something down and dirty last night. Between the color she had turned just now, and how tired she looked, and the faraway dreamy look she'd also had on her face, something was different.

He looked at her and cocked his head. She looked back and scrunched her eyebrows up.

"Kurt. What?"

An all-to-familiar WMHS scenario started to play itself out in his head. He inhaled and covered his mouth, making a slight hissing sound. His eyes got wide, and he grabbed her and pulled her further in to the kitchen.

He whispered low, machine-gunning his words at her."Sister, you had better start talking. I know Puck cut back on the Saturday parties this year. I don't remember what his asinine reason was. Maybe he saw the light in juvie. But please, please tell me he hasn't found other things, or should I say people to do…"

Rachel looked at him as if he had two heads. Then her eyes got as wide as he'd ever seen them and she whispered at him fiercely. "Are you out of your mind? What are you talking about Kurt? Are you…? You aren't insinuating…that I…and Noah? Please. Just, no. No!" She glared at her fellow diva, who shrugged and back-peddled, raising his hands defensively.

"I would never!" She whispered her follow up harshly, barely resisting the urge to poke him in the chest when she said it.

She shook her head hard to clear it, covering it with summoned righteous indignation.

_Except you would. And…ya did.  
Well not with Noah.  
Fair enough.  
Thank you.  
Whatever lets you sleep 'well' at night...  
_

She shook her head again then ran her fingers behind her ears, tucking in stray strands. With relief, she could see that Kurt at least believed she hadn't had any romantic interlude with Noah. He spoke in a calm placating voice now. "Hey now, okay then. Nooo Puck. Puck you no likey. Got it."

Only he didn't get it at all, and it was bothering him. Something was up.

She rolled her eyes at what she was reduced to saying.

"That's right. Noah me no likey. Argh. I like Noah just fine. He is a fine…Look. Nothing is going on between myself and Noah, okay?"

Kurt squinted at her and cupped his hand in his chin, trying again to take her measure.

"Okay. I get it, I get it. I take it back. No side of Mr. Puckerman. Got it. And…so everything is peachy keen between you and Finn." He turned away as he mumbled under his breath. "Clearly..."

Based on the sour look he got when he turned back to her, she had still managed to hear him.

"I heard that" she confirmed irritably. He drummed his fingers on the counter top. "Well Good. Okay then. I'm just giving you a friendly bit of advice here. I'm telling you that even our dear sweet somnambulant Finn might pick up that something is a bit hinky here." He looked at her pointedly, but he stopped and wilted slightly at the glare she sending his way. He raised his right hand. "Look. As God is my witness, I'm not trying to be an ass. I'm just making an observation."

"Duly noted. Except I thought you and God were on the outs?" She quipped, hoping to end the line of questioning. Kurt had very little to say on that subject, so it worked, thankfully

The kettle started its pre-whistle moan and she moved to turn off the stove.

Perfectly aware she had purposefully redirected the conversation, Kurt fell silent as he arranged, and rearranged the cups. Privately, the first thing he thought was that perhaps she was mad at Finn for the attention he'd been getting from Santana. Did he really need to explain to Rachel that the Latina was just throwing herself at Finn in an attempt to deal with her feelings for Brittany and how she'd screwed that up? Santana, he was certain, was just reaching for something easy, anything or anyone to make someone else hurt, just like she herself was hurting. And knocking off Finn would certainly fit the bill.

But if Santana wasn't the issue, he didn't know of anything specific Finn could have done to rile up the diva. But maybe it was a collection of things.

Now that he'd gotten to know her, Kurt had catbird seat on the glee club's Dynamic Duo. And it turned out that Finn wasn't the dreamboat boyfriend Kurt had at one time fantasized he could be. For him, not Rachel of course. And at one time. Not now.

And Rachel could be annoying as hell, sure, but Finn certainly took someone who was supposed to be his girlfriend for granted. He never would have dared treat Quinn that way when they dated. He didn't know why Rachel didn't have the problem with it that Quinn would have.

Well he did know. Quinn and Rachel succumbed to and acted out their insecurities in different ways. Quinn turned crazy cold bitch (as opposed to Santana's crazy raging bitch), and preyed on others. Or she used to. Less so these days. Rachel turned babbling annoying, clingy, idiot savant. And they were both better than that, at least most of the time. As for Santana, he certainly hoped she was better than the crazy raging bitch persona. He wasn't always sure.

Regardless, Rachel's insecurities pushed her to want too much, try too hard. On the other end, Quinn's insecurities actually seem to keep her from pushing too hard, or wanting too much. Except in Cheerios, she always took the safe path of least resistance. Deep down, he suspected they both got exactly what they expected. Not enough.

It was an interesting dichotomy those two. He paused as he arranged the teacups he'd busied himself with while he let Rachel cool down.

He actually stopped breathing as an almost impossible thought drifted lightly and settled onto him. Rachel and Quinn. Quinn and Rachel.

No. It couldn't be. But…? Maybe? No. But then again, maybe? It did make a weird quasi-sense in a Bizarro World way. But they hated each other! But… to hate someone, well it takes a healthy dose genuine passion. Or something. He shivered thinking of Karofsky. Was what Quinn had done to Rachel since the beginning of high school until just recently any different? Maybe that was the reason she had tormented the diva. He looked at her quickly, his stomach tight with worry. She looked tired, and annoyed. But she didn't look scared. Not the way he had felt. He wanted to sigh with relief but kept it in.

_Holy repressed lesbian drama Batman! Okay. First things first. Observe and report, observe and report. Stay neutral. Okay, maybe not report. Except maybe Mercedes. That doesn't count._

He got out the mint teabags and placed them in the waiting teapot.

"Rachel. Hey. I wasn't ambushing you. Truly. Yes, I was digging a bit. I'll back off. Just…just know that yes, I'm probably soon to be Finn's step-brother. But it doesn't mean I think the boy walks on water. I can listen. Now, I won't referee between you two, this is true. But I can still...listen. It will all be sub rosa, okay? The Swiss ain't got nothin' on me."

She turned to face him, and he schooled his features. She prudently kept her head down and stared at her feet while she absorbed what he'd said aloud. "Sub rosa, really?"

"I pay attention in class too, Berry."

It was then of course that there were heavy thuds of footsteps coming up the stairs; which could only mean Finn was making his way to the kitchen. He cursed the ridiculously tall boy's timing.

Rachel meanwhile was fidgeting and restless now. She had two choices as far as she could see. Deny it completely and stoically, or acknowledge Kurt's olive branch and maybe have an understanding ear if she chose to use it. She calculated she had about two seconds before her supposedly perfect male romantic lead showed up.

Finally she looked up and locked eyes with Kurt and gave him the smallest of nods along with a neutral look. It wasn't an outright rebuff of his offer, but it wasn't acceptance either. He nodded and stepped around her to pick up the kettle. But not before he gave her the lightest squeeze on the shoulder.

Finn stumbled out of the door to the basement and rubbed his eyes. "Hey. Rach?" He stretched and yawned and put a fist over his mouth. "Did you eat? Did Kurt fix you something?"

Kurt looked at the ceiling and took a deep breath. Yes. So very over the manservant thing they apparently had going.

She watched his long form stretch, watched his face screw up in a yawn, watched him scratch his head. "Hi Finn, no I'm afraid I've already eaten, but he did offer, and we're having tea."

The tall boy shuffled towards her and then leaned over to kiss her, but ended up kissing her on the temple instead of the lips.

He smelled like potato chips. And pastrami. "Finn, did you have pastrami again?"

He backed up and looked at her. "How did you know?"

She shook her head, annoyed. "Well, I hope you didn't eat it in front of Mr. Hummel. That seems cruel. Assuming he likes pastrami that is." She was jumping to conclusions, but Burt Hummel did rather look like someone that would enjoy pastrami. And after all he did just have a heart related episode, so she thought it might be a safe guess. "And I might add that I mean beyond the obvious animal cruelty to whatever mix of proteins happen to make up that particular delight."

Finn's face looked slightly humbled. "I didn't of think of that. The part about Kurt's dad I mean." Then he got the stubborn look again. "Well wait. What? I ate it quickly, and he didn't say anything."

_Well maybe he shouldn't have to say anything._

"Whatever. Let's just commence to studying, shall we, por favor?"

"Si. Gracias" he answered, a little sourly.

Finn looked at Kurt as his girlfriend exited the kitchen unceremoniously. "What crawled up her ass and died?"

Rachel paused at the door to the basement. Kurt sighed at his house-mate's version of an inside voice. His whisper was more like a stage whisper. His father could probably have heard it over the football game in the next room. He cringed as he watched the petite back go rigid and her hand reach out to grip the doorframe. He looked at Finn with his best 'earnest' face and spoke so only he could hear.

"I don't know what in blazes you did Senor Fussypants, but I am here to tell you that you had best tread lightly."

Finn looked at him and shrugged before grumbling. "What'd I do this time? She is the one who ditched me for dinner last night."

Kurt tapped his foot impatiently. That really was the way Finn saw it apparently. Never mind that Finn ditched the food that HE had prepared everybody, but he then apparently had wanted to go get leftover free food from the Berry household. Typical.

Rachel finally got a grip, so to speak and turned back to them. "I'm sorry, I forgot the tea you most generously prepared for me." She looked at Kurt and inclined her head. "Thank you so much."

"Oh I think Finn can take that down for you, can't he?" He looked at the baffled boy and held out the tea and saucer. Finn took them and looked down at it and over at Rachel. Rachel smiled and nodded her head before going back to the top of the stairs.

"Uh…sure?"

Kurt nodded encouragingly at him. "There you go. Now, I'm going to get my dad set up. I might join you all in a little bit, if that's all right that is?"

Finn gave a lopsided grin and looked over his shoulder at his girlfriend who was waiting for him.

"Well, uh, make sure you knock." Kurt arched his elegant brow and shook his head. He could see Rachel's face and it didn't look like the kind of face that would be amenable to any activities that would require Kurt to knock or risk interrupting. Well, unless you counted an argument.

Poor clueless Finn, he thought. And oh to be a fly on the wall. He watched the over-confident would-be-stud follow Rachel down the stairs.

The first thing he did was take the fresh mint tea to his dad, who made a pretend excited face for him.

Then he casually strolled to the kitchen to clean up and whipped out his cell phone.

**Kurt:** _Something is afoot_.**  
Mercedes:** _What? Who?  
_**Kurt:** _Not sure. RB here. There seems less joy in Berry-Hudsonville today_

* * *

_**####**  
_

**A/N: Sorry for the wait guys. Work, work, more work, bad weather. Work. Bad soccer games. Grumpy author. It happens. No traveling for work for a few weeks though, so back at it!**

**Read and review please! And cheer for Chelsea (I know…I'm fickle. But they're playing Man U in Champion's League….)**

**A/N: about the damnyouautocorrectdotcom. I had a review that mentioned that they read it in class and busted out laughing. Well I was bored onsite last week, and so…I went there on my phone (not while dialed into network of course). I was laughing my head off, with a ridiculous high pitched giggle, and there were tears coming out of my eyes. And then I got the hiccups. I had to be promise myself not to do that again. :o**


	35. Chapter 35

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up to…Silly Love Songs I think.  
**Rated:** R for language

**A/N: Well…still Unbeta'd. Sorry for all mistakes, feel free to point them out. Reviews would still be very much appreciated, as we all know authors live off of them. **

**A/N 2: Thanks to those of you that read and bother to comment. Always nice to hear from you. A little more plot thickening I suppose. A little angst, not my forte, but hope you enjoy! Wanted to get this up before going out, sorry if it's a bit jumbled, will fix later. **

* * *

**####  
**

The minute she'd nodded at Kurt, her heart rate had jumped up a notch. With ever step down the stairs, she took deep breaths trying to calm down. It was not so much that she was afraid of anyone finding out she'd hooked up with a girl, any girl. Okay, she was a little not happy about that possibility, and she was ashamed of that instinct, so she'd shoved it down to process later. What she was afraid of was the blow to her integrity this coming out would cause. Already, internally it wasn't sitting well. Nevertheless, what was done, was done. What it all meant would have to be sorted later. What she wanted now was some sort of damage control.

She wasn't ashamed of being attracted to a female. Two gay dads, hello. But, surprised? Yes. But not ashamed. However, she was afraid of the consequences. Her new found rise in social acceptability? Gone. She'd lose Finn and poof! The rise in status and the protection afforded being his girlfriend would be history. Back to the bottom.

But what really shamed her was the fact it was something she was even worried about in the first place. Never mind the fact that it would hurt her boyfriend, who, while often thick as a brick, was what everyone deemed a 'good guy.'

"Rach? Are you gonna just stand there?"

And there goes the heart rate again Rachel thought. How was it this stressful? Being Finn was supposed to be easy, make things easier, wasn't it?

"Sorry, Finn, I'm a bit tired today." She moved forward and dropped her notes on his desk.

"I can see that. Did you have a big lunch like I did?"

"Something like that."

Finn looked at her, concern mixed with confusion on his face."Hey, what's wrong? I mean, I know you hung out at Quinn's yesterday, but I figured with Kurt and Mercedes there, it wouldn't be so bad. And you're just totally in a pissy mood for no reason that I can see."

She inhaled and exhaled to control herself. "Quinn was fine. Studying was fine. Really."

He talked right over her. "Because I know Quinn can be such a cold bitch. I mean, who knows that better than me, right?"

She whirled around and sat abruptly on the small uncomfortable couch. "Finn, Quinn was really fine. I'm fine. I said it was fine. I'm just tired. I think the tea would help."

"Oh yeah. Oh yeah, here you go." She shoved the dainty tea cup and saucer at her. And still he kept talking. She watched him.

"Oh, so how come you're not wearing a skirt? You always wear skirts. I mean, you look aMAZING in skirts. I'm just sayin'"

She quirked her mouth and rolled her eyes. She had to admit she did wear them more often because of him now. It was freezing out, and it really was a little ridiculous to wear skirts on the weekend to a study session just to impress him.

"It was a little chilly out for short skirts, don't you think Finn? I was cold."

"Oh, yeah, I guess that makes sense. It just never bothered you before. Okay, I guess its okay you can wear jeans. You still look pretty damn hot in them, babe!"

He smiled and winked at her. She pressed her lips in a line, smiled, and nodded. And then he got right back on what seemed like a rant. She was starting to wonder if he'd taken illicit 'vitamins' again or something as he jumped topics again.

"Anyway, speaking of hot? I know Quinn's really hot and all, but even with that much hotness? I don't know how anyone can ever trust her. She's such a snake in the grass."

She opened her eyes and gave him a good hard look. He paused, apparently realizing what he'd just said. His verbal back peddaling was clumsy. "Uh, not as hot as you babe. I mean, she can't sing like you after all."

_Way to be obvious and appeal to my admitted vocal vanity, jackass._

He looked at her waiting to see if it was going to work. She let it slide, not because of the compliment to her voice, but because it wasn't worth it and she was too tired to point out the obvious of the inanity of telling one's current girlfriend that one's ex-girlfriend is hot.

_Really. What the hell calling his ex-girlfriend hot? To her face? Okay, yes, Quinn was hot. Really hot. God was she hot.  
And I bet she never smells like pastrami. _

Rachel cocked her head and just watched him talk. Was this what she herself did sometimes? Did she just talk to hear the sound of her own voice, without listening to anyone else around her? Probably sometimes. It was true that she didn't think Finn often considered what came out of his mouth before he said, but he didn't usually talk…well, as much as she did. She made a mental note to continue to work on her own personal verbal filter. Because this? She could see how it could be pretty annoying.

Her stomach clenched, and she felt a little dizzy. At this point, she didn't know if she was coming or going, or who or what she was jealous of. She slurped at her tea desperately. It had cooled a great deal and she finished it, grateful for the natural stomach calming effects it provided.

_This is just all kinds of wrong._

Finn was gesticulating now, warming to his topic even more. "I know Puck and I were fighting and all, on account of his sleeping with her and everything. But man, he did try to be a standup guy for her, and she just spit it back in his face. You know, everyone thinks she's changed. I just don't think I buy it."

He's still talking she noted with annoyance and tried to comment. "I told you, Quinn was fine. And she does seem to have changed a lot of her attitudes, I for one—"

He talked over her. Finn could be oafish of course. However, he was usually inclined to at least pretend to listen to her do all the talking and he would make appropriate sounds of agreement at appropriate times. She perhaps knew, but ignored the tiny voice that told her that this wasn't how it should be with a couple. But when he didn't contribute, she usually just found herself talking, to fill the void.

"She hasn't changed, she just has Sam wrapped around her finger now is all. That's all that's changed. And he doesn't even get as far with the Ice Queen as—"

Her eyes snapped up and clamped his mouth shut. She tilted her head, curious in a detached way where this tirade was going. He was really digging quite the hole for himself.

"I mean, I don't know even know how Sam deals with her, I swear. She totally blew him off last night." He stopped finally and looked at her. "She blew him off today too."

Her ears pricked up at that. She wasn't going to see Sam later? That was the first interesting thing he'd said so far. Then he looked at her with the sad puppy dog look.

"Well, kinda like you did last night."

She jerked her head back a little and looked at him. "I didn't blow you off Finn. You had plans here already. I didn't break plans with you, now did I? And the phone reception was bad."

"Yeah, I guess sorta. But I mean, it's just that usually…"

She clenched her teeth. "Yes?"

"Well, you know." He looked at her and shrugged.

She did know. She knew very well what he meant. He meant that she tended towards the insanely clingy. She'd even heard Finn muttering about it. And until now, she'd been powerless to stop herself.

It suddenly seemed a great deal easier to not be clingy. At all.

"You mean I usually fall all over myself to spend time with you?"

He'd stopped talking now, as if he might have finally grasped, at last, the barest of hints that he had stumbled into a something dangerous. And that perhaps he should shut up.

"Well…yes?" His voice rose in a question as he looked at her and almost cringed.

Rachel was powerless to stop the mirthless bark of laughter that erupted from her. The look on Finn's right now face now was one she'd seen on him before, when he was dating Quinn. It was the same face he'd worn when he was scared shitless after having crossed the head Cheerio; he had no idea how or when or why, only that

However, she didn't do what Quinn would have done so effortlessly back then. Rachel didn't emasculate him, or gently or not so gently lead him in the direction she wanted him to go. After all, she wasn't stupid. She knew she was tired and emotionally all over the place.

She needed a breather. Now. Before she said or did something really harsh without thinking it, and the consequences, through. So she gave him a tight smile and nodded before standing up to excuse herself.

Standing calmly with her hands on her hips she saw him flinch. The rush of triumph that zinged through her took her by surprise. It was followed by an equally surprising sadness, as it dawned on her that this was not the dynamic she wanted at all. With anyone.

She spoke quietly and firmly. "Finn, I'm going to get some more tea. Can I bring you some?"

He raised his eyebrows at her, but stood stock still like a deer caught in headlights. "Uh, no thanks."

She held in her sigh. "In the meantime, I would suggest you practice the irregular verbs first. But that is up to you. My study plan is in the green folder."

His eyes shifted and he nodded, but didn't move otherwise. She took a deep breath and ascended the stairs, trying her best not to make it look like a 'storm off.' She reached for the phone in her pocket to check it again. After all it had been on silent, she could have missed something.

Her heart rate jumped yet again when she saw there were two messages now, both from Quinn.

**####**

Quinn calmed herself as she lay spread on Mercedes' bed. The inane urge to laugh told her how tired she was, how strained she was feeling, even after her run. She sat up slowly and adjusted her loose ponytail and wiped the laughter tears from her eyes. She looked down at the phone in her hand. This really wasn't good, and if she weren't so strung out and tired, she'd be able to focus on that.

Shit. She realized that Rachel would be unaware of the fact that Quinn had let slip that she'd spent the night at her house. It wouldn't necessarily be a big deal, but she should at least have that information. And, well, it gave her a good reason to text the girl.

She fiddled with the phone for a bit. Hi Rach, Rachel, Berry. Where had her self-assuredness fled to? She stared hard at the phone and started again.

**Quinn:** _Rach? Sam knows I spent night at your house. Just FYI. Thought you should know._

She pressed send and stared at it for a moment. Like she would get a reply right away or something. Not likely. She was probably in some fumbling Finn throwdown on the couch. She scrunched her nose in distaste.

_What? Does that bother you Q?  
I think I just threw up in my mouth a little._

She tapped out another text and stared at it, but didn't press send.

**Quinn:** _Also, I wanted to say 'hi' and how goes it? Hope you are having a good time_.

_No. No you really don't, do you? You hope she's sitting with Finn Hudson, thinking of you. Let's stick with either honesty or sin of omission, shall we? No outright lying._

**[backspace][backspace] [backspace][backspace] **

**Quinn:** _Hey you :- ) Studying hard? How goes it? Hope you are not too tired._

_Very subtle, Fabray. Really. Way to remind her how you two wore each other out til the break of dawn.  
Hey, I am having to struggle not to think about it, so seems only fair to me  
Whatever. I like your spirit though.  
It's not like I put a ;-P at the end, right?  
Yes, but because that would have not been subtle. Yay you. Really. You get a golf clap for that one.  
Bite me._

Quinn stared her phone.

_I am so lame. What the hell is wrong with me? Eager much, Fabray? Could you sound any more…chipper?_

_Probably not._

She held up both phones, one in each hand, growled and dropped them roughly next to her. She flopped back on the bed, stared at the ceiling, and turned off her inner monolog for a few blessed sweet moments. Then she heard Mercedes, she presumed, coming back up the stairs. At the same time at the bottom of the bed, she heard a phone vibrate. She reached to grab where the sound was coming from.

"Damn it", she mumbled. Not her phone, it was Mercedes'. She resisted the urge to look at the screen. Her best guess was that it was a continuation of the conversation with Kurt.

_Do it... You know you wanna look. Do it! It could be important. You NEED to look.  
I am going to hell.  
With bells on. What else is new?  
Fucker.  
Like that'll help your cause with St. Peter. Keep it up.  
_

She cracked an eye at it. The green text bubble with Kurt's head next to it was short and simple.

**Kurt:** _Girl, are you sitting down?  
_

She dropped the phone and her stomach clenched.

_Hell in a hand basket.  
_

The door opened and Mercedes carried the plate of pie and two glasses of milk, balancing them awkwardly.

"Sorry! Hey I could have helped you know!"

"Yeah, and risk mom's china with you busting out like a hyena? I don't think so. Take this."

Quinn hopped up to grab the glass she had balanced under her chin.

"Oh, by the way your phone just doinked just before two seconds ago."

Mercedes quirked her eyebrow in a pretty decent imitation of her. "Oh? Gimme."

Quinn sat on the bed with the milk and handed over the phone, as the other girl eyed her.

She took the phone and looked down at it. Quinn drank her milk, and concentrated on the patterns in the green bedspread. Mercedes sat down and typed something back quickly.

"Care to share with the rest of the class," the blonde asked as casually as possible.

"Not sure yet, Pipe it."

"Hmph. Can I at least have some pie?"

Mercedes jerked her head to the plate. "I forgot forks. By the way, Calvin sends his love, and thanks." She chortled and continued texting.

"For your mom's apple pie? I'll deal with no forks. Tell Cal sorry."

She reached for the pie and took a bite. She was concentrating on enjoying the flaky crust, blocking out her racing thoughts, trying not to wonder too much about what Kurt was saying. Her own phone buzzed into life, startling her. She swallowed and reached for it with her free hand, trying to tamp down the dual feelings of anticipation and dread.

**Rachel:** _Good to know. Thanks._

Well that wasn't exactly the verbose Rachel she knew. She was studying it when it buzzed again right away.

**Rachel:** _It goes. Not so much. And at least too tired to deal with Finn._

**Rachel:** _Oh, and fyi, he thinks you're hot. And I quote.'_ I know Quinn's really hot_' I thought you should know._

Quinn reread the text, puzzled.

_Okay, that is weird. What the hell is Hudson thinking? Is he that stupid?_

And again the phone buzzed in hand, making her jump.

**Rachel:** _Something you should know? I would have to concur._

Quinn could not have stopped the grin spreading across her face if her life depended on it. Mercedes noticed and watched a blush spread as quickly as the grin.

Mercedes' own phone buzzed once, and again in quick succession. She picked it up and her face would have shown surprise and then a little bit of anger had Quinn been paying attention to it. But she was too busy grinning to notice.

"Uh…Okay Q…? I'll show you mine if you show me yours?"

The blonde head popped up. "Uh what? Excuse me? No thanks!"

"What? No! No! Your oh-so-interesting text Q, not…no. Just no. What the hell?"

"Ooooh. Uh. That's just a weird phrase! That's like something Puck would say. Sorry. And…yeah, uh I don't think that would be a good idea. Showing texts I mean."

"So. You're not going to tell me what, hm, Rachel or Sam or say…Finn are saying over there?"

"Uh, Finn? Why would Finn be texting me? We're hardly on good terms."

"Umhmm? So, Rachel or Sam?"

Quinn grinned again as she looked down, before recovering and looking at the other girl with hopefully neutral feature.

"Sam? No. And why would it be Rachel?"

Mercedes gave her a look that clearly said 'do you think I'm stupid?'

Quinn bit her lip, stalling for time, but her interrogator was having none of it.

"You tell me, girl. Why would it be Rachel? I'm confused as all hell here, aiight? But I don't judge, right? Now what the hell is going on here?"

She tossed her phone to Quinn who looked at it.

**Mercedes:** _I'm sitting_.  
**Kurt:** _Trouble in River City here._**  
Kurt:** _And if I'm not mistaken (rare), or crazy (not yet), it starts with a Q and it ends in N and it rhymes with Finn  
_**Kurt:**_ And now for the crazy part. I think RB is stuck in the middle._

Quinn paled as she read it. Then she cleared her throat and tossed back the phone.

"Wow. Very clever. Is Kurt bored?"

Mercedes grabbed her phone back and gave her a stern look.

"Possibly, but you know better, and if you don't look like the cat that ate the canary right about now, then I don't know what."

Quinn folded her arms, and Mercedes pushed her advantage.

"So what did you do Q? Why now? Why would you want to take Finn away? I thought you and Rachel were getting along so well and all now? Are you—"

"Hey, hey!" The cheerleader quickly retreated to tried and true stubborn, slightly haughty and definitely defensive HBIC Quinn. It was just too ingrained in her to not back down. She could have just kept her mouth shut, but she never did, did she?

"Hey now. It wasn't just me you know. Don't blame it all on me! I'm pretty damn sure she enjoyed it as much as I did and—

She clamped her mouth shut. Damn it. She knew better. She let herself get angry and then she just opened her trap.

Mercedes dropped her phone to the floor with a thump. "She?"

_Oh fuck me. I am such an idiot.  
No argument here. Quite the clusterfuck you made with this.  
I just…told her everything, didn't I?  
Yup. Right down to the fact that you enjoyed it. Screw the 'golf clap'. THAT deserves a rousing chorus of that delightful standby 'Who let's the dogs out? You! You you you YOU! You let the dogs out Fabray. Awesome._

Mercedes was still stunned. "Okay. Did NOT see that coming."

Quinn was trembling a little, but she still had her wits about her. "I swear, we're friends Mercedes, but if you text Kurt or say anything? I'll…I'll, I'll break your mother's dishes, after I break your phone."

Mercedes looked at the desperately scared girl in front of her, spoke gently, and put the phone down. "Hey, hey. Okay. Can I just tell him I'm talking to you now? You know if I don't answer, he'll make something up on his own, or know something is up."

The blonde took a deep breath. That made sense."Okay, okay."

Mercedes texted quickly and took a deep breath.

"Wow. Q. Just wow. You're never boring Q, I'll give you that."

"I know, right?" She laughed sadly.

**####**

_**A/N: **_**Happy Friday.****Some folks asked me after the er… sexytimes chapters where I mentioned I listened to 'Drive' to get me in the mood, and what else do I listen to. I do have a play list, but yeah, 'Drive' was a one time thing for those chapters, lol. Otherwise, I rotate. This was tense or angsty-ish (for me) so…angsty emo songs?**

**So, let's see I was listening some mostly to older Counting and Crows (Anna Begins, Angels of the Silences) Ani DiFranco (Fire Door live version..), Rosie Thomas (Since You've Been Around) Jonantha Brooke (Linger) Frightened Rabbits (The Wrestle) Annie Lennox (Train Vain, the Clash is a bit too peppy for angst!) and Patty Griffin (Every Little Bit) for this particular chapter. Oh and Gomez (How we operate).  
**

**Go Liverpool, she said with much enthusiasm. Even though Gerrard is out for the rest of damn season. I don't know what to think of LeBron James buying a stake in Liverpool. Does this mean the entire state of Ohio will not hate Liverpool?  
**


	36. Chapter 36

**Pairing: **_Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up to…Silly Love Songs I think.  
**Rated:** R for language

**A/N: Well…still Unbeta'd. Sorry for all mistakes, feel free to point them out. Reviews would still be very much appreciated, as we all know authors live off of them.**

**A/N: There will be more interaction between our intrepid heroines next chapter, I promise. :) Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

The bedroom was quiet, but there were the usual sounds of Sunday afternoon at the Jones house. Mercedes pitched her voice low anyway. Calvin was only a few years older than she was, and was not above snooping.

"Okay Quinn. Putting the phone down now."

She put her cell phone like it was a loaded gun, and raised her hands. Quinn's slightly unfocused eyes jerked towards it, and Mercedes was reminded how feral the blonde could come across when she felt threatened. Now, the blonde wrapped her arms around herself and stared off at nothing out the window.

This went on for a full two minutes.

Finally, Mercedes reached for her milk. "I'm not trying to rush you, I'm just going to have some milk and pie here, 'kay?"

The blonde pulled her eyes back to her and nodded. She watched Mercedes nibble at the pie and sip her milk. Her stomach made an audible sound. Mercedes raised her eyebrow and handed her pie plate again. Quinn reached for it and her milk, happy to have something to do besides sit dumbly. This was silly. She wasn't going to tell the other girl everything, but since she'd opened her mouth about it, she was going to have explain at least some of it.

"Well."

Mercedes sipped her milk and looked at her over the top of her glass. "Well."

At last, the words started to flow and the Cheerio started to explain things, at least to a certain extent. "I mean, it's not a big deal. We just hung out the rest of the day. We watched some _Caprica_ on SyFy."

Mercedes looked at her oddly. "_Caprica_?"

Quinn gave her disbelieving look. "What? So I like SyFy. This is a problem?"

_I like SyFy and kissing girls, well a girl, and she focuses on Caprica?  
Perhaps you should consider that a blessing Q, eh?  
_

Mercedes shrugged. "No, no no problem here. Just checking?"

The blonde grunted and continued. "So yes. _Caprica_. She…Rachel likes it too. We watched TV. I fell asleep on the couch. She stayed and cleaned up while I slept. Which was…well, nice, right? And then it was almost dinnertime. Mom was having a social night out. You were…where were you? You left with Kurt. Anyway, B and S were having movie night or something." She stopped and giggled, remembering they'd sent that skinny kid Kenny Smithson from class to Santana's house on a suicide mission. Straightening her face, she continued rapid fire.

"Anyway, so…she invited me to her house for dinner. You know, with her dads. So…I went."

"And…?"

"And? It was fun. We just…hung out. We played poker. And watched _The Princess Bride_. And it got late."

"It got late…"

"Yes, it got late, so…"

"So?"

"So instead making one of them drive me home, I spent the night. That's all." She finished with her voice hard and her face impassive.

"Okay. First off, why didn't you drive? And two? You drop something like 'she enjoyed it as much as I did' on me, and that's all I get? Seriously? That you spent the night? I'm supposed to believe that is all? I mean, not that that isn't a little odd, but hardly fetal position worthy, know what I'm saying?"

Now Mercedes watched hazel eyes dart around the room, thinking to herself that Quinn used to be a much better liar. She sighed and spoke quietly and gently now.

"Q? I told you, I don't judge. I'm not gonna say anything. Not even to Kurt. Although, I have to warn you, Kurt thought something odd was going on yesterday afternoon. Was there?"

Quinn's eyes snapped up to her and her voice squeaked just a little. "No. Nothing." She took a deep breath and cleared her throat. "Not yet," she added as pulled her knees up even closer to her chest and locked her arms around them tightly, rocking slightly.

The diva raised her hand indicating Quinn and her state in general. "Then what is all this…about?"

"We kissed."

The words hissed out so quietly that Mercedes barely heard them. When she realized what she'd said, she took a huge breath. Even though she'd figured as much that something like that had happened, she still wasn't as prepared for it as she thought she was.

"You. And Rachel. You kissed."

"Yes."

"And you liked it." It was a statement and a question at the same time.

Quinn didn't say anything to the contrary, so Mercedes took the lack of denial as a yes. She frowned a bit. "Okay. Processing here. So…uh, how did that happen, and more importantly, how was it? Although somehow? I think I know the answer to that already."

The blonde grimaced. "I don't know how it happened. I mean I do, sort of? I don't know. Look. It was…by mutual consent. Although, I guess technically I kissed her."

It was Mercedes' turn to grimace now. "Okay, okay. That's enough info for me here. I…yeah, still processing! And by the looks of it, you are too, huh?"

"Really? How could you tell?"

"Well, you wigging out and the fact that you're practically in a fetal position? Yeah, that was my first clue."

The rocking stopped and Quinn rested her chin on her knees, and allowed her mouth to twitch into a rueful smile. "Please. This is not wigging out. I think I'm doing relatively well here, considering I'm going to hell, thank you very much."

Mercedes snorted. "I sure don't think you're going to hell, at least not for anything you've done so far, girl. So. What the heck are you gonna do now? I mean, just because you kissed...Rachel." She still couldn't wrap her head around it and stumbled over the name. "Well, that doesn't mean you're…you know." She trailed off, almost in a mumble.

There was a long silence, and the unspoken word hung there. And Mercedes felt like an ass. It was almost as if it was a betrayal of her best friend, Kurt, for her to be so circumspect. She gave herself a mental slap for it. Not only was it small of her, but it probably didn't help Quinn. She swallowed before she spoke again.

"So, can I ask? What does Rachel think or feel about…uh, this new twist on ya'll's crazy ass triangle. Or…quadrangle, or whatever it is."

Quinn shrugged. "I don't know. We haven't really…talked about it. At least not that much."

"Ooookay. Well it must have been an awkward morning huh? Well, I'd think you might want to put that pretty high on your list of shit that needs to happen. Like soon. And what about Sam?"

"Sam."

"Yes, Sam? Nice guy, blonde, looks eerily like you. Oddly feminine looking lips. Ringing any bells?"

"Everyone keeps saying those things. Do you really think so?"

Mercedes nodded. "It's a little weird Q. But, I have to say the 'lady lips' make a bit more sense now."

Quinn made a sour face and Mercedes laughed at her. "Too soon?"

"Wee bit. And well, regardless of…anything else. I think I just need to be friends with Sam. I started this year wanting to be on my own anyway. I mean, I wouldn't have said there was any real…I don't know, heat between us? I mean, at least as far as I'm concerned."

The other girl nodded sagely as she added her two cents worth. "And…maybe that was what made him so appealing? Nice to look at and be around, but…no danger of Babygate 2? Just boosting your collective popularity…no harm, no foul?"

The blonde looked thoughtful, and slightly ashamed as she nodded. "I think you may have nit the nail on the head there. I don't think I totally conscious of that though, I mean it wasn't like I thought that through. Forethought has not been my forte as of late, has it? I guess…he sorta pursued me, and it was nice. You know?"

Mercedes shook her head and made a 'tsking' sound, and her laugh was only slightly bitter. "I wish I did, Q, I wish I did. Puck is as close as I've come to around here." She giggled and drank some milk. "Speaking of Puckasaurus. He would probably die happy thinking of you and Rachel…er. You know."

Quinn's eyes narrowed and hardened, fear and anger coiling in her stomach. She sat up straight. "Hey, you said no one would know. I thought I could trust you."

"Hey now, chillax. I'm just kidding around. Just lightening things up here. I'm not going to tell Puck. Or anybody else as long as you don't want me too, 'kay?"

The stressed blonde allowed herself to relax back into her near fetal position. "Okay, I'm sorry. This is just…scary."

"I'm sure it is. You gotta promise to keep me in the loop here though, okay?"

"About?"

"What happens now."

Quinn smacked the bed with both hands. "What happens now? I have no clue what happens now. I mean, yeah, I'm going to have to end things with Sam. Or at least be honest…ish with him."

Mercedes whistled long and low. "Wow. I see. So it was that good a kiss then?"

The blonde covered her face, and blushed furiously.

"I'll take that as a yes. What about our Miss Berry?"

"I don't know. She and Finn, you know? I don't know. This time last year, we hated each other. I don't expect her to break up with Mr. Wonderass just because we…er, kissed. That's her business."

"Uh huh. Okay…so what would you want her to do if you had a choice."

"Don't ask me that. You can't ask me that. I don't know. And the answer keeps changing anyway."

Mercedes passed the last bit of pie towards the other girl, who reached out and picked at it. "Fair enough. But in my humble, inexperienced side-line opinion? I think you guys need to have a talk. Like soon. And you and Sam? When are you going to talk to Golden Boy?"

The blonde looked guilty and sad and a bit furtive. "I was going to watch a movie with him tonight. But I rescheduled to Tuesday. And it's not just me here. I can't go spilling my guts, even if I weren't scared shitless. Even if I knew exactly what it all meant. It's not just me here involved, and I can't just open my mouth to ease my own conscience."

Mercedes considered this. "Okay, you may be right, but still, didn't you learn your lesson about putting things off? Keeping secrets?"

"I know. I know." She sounded tired and exasperated now. "Can't I just take a bit of time, to say…I don't know, examine things? And I'm so tired. I mean, you saw me about wet my pants laughing, didn't you? I'm not exactly at the top of my game."

Dark eyes twinkled mischievously. "Well staying up all night kissing…and whatnot will make a body tired. Or at least that is what I hear."

Quinn sat up again. "Whatnot? What do you mean by ' whatnot'? There was no mention of any…whatnot. And I didn't say all night."

The blonde was frowning petulantly and Mercedes laughed at her, shaking her head. "I know, I know. I'm just teasing you. But with your reaction there, I'm gonna quit, because I sure as hella don't wanna know about any 'whatnot.' I'm having enough trouble processing you and Berry, kissing in a tree…K.I.S.S.I—"

"Oh my GOD shut it Mercedes! What are you? Like ten years old here?"

Mercedes howled at her and laughed even more despite the taunt and sang quietly. "You like her, you think she's preeetty, you want to kiissss her…"

"Tell me again why I thought I could trust you?" She curled into an angry looking ball again, and waited for the chuckling to subside. Which it finally did. Mercedes wiped tears of laughter from her eyes.

"Aw sweetie, I'm sorry. I'm just trying to get you to relax. Besides, since I can't talk to Kurt about this, I have to get my ya-yas out somehow, right?"

Quinn growled and picked up her pillow and made as if to throw it. "Hey now, mom's china!" The blonde growled again but dropped the pillow and crossed her arms again.

"Fine. Ya-yas all out?"

Mercedes shook tilted her head and looked at her at an angle. "Hardly. But for the moment, yes. Feel better?"

"I can't tell yet. Maybe. The pie was helpful."

Mercedes put her hand on her hip and looked at her with an attitude. "What am I? Chopped liver?"

The blonde rolled her eyes. "And so was the company. Thanks for listening. And more importantly. Not telling…?"

Mercedes nodded firmly. "Not telling. And hey, no problem. I got your back." She fell quiet and watched the Cheerio. "So…you really…kinda like her?"

Quinn ran nervous hands through her hair as she undid and readjusted her ponytail. She finally spoke, her voice almost a whisper. "God. I don't know. And God knows I'd rather not. But…maybe." Her eyes were shiny as she admitted it quietly. "I don't want to. Not because it's her. It's because I don't want to be…"

"Yeah, I know. I get it." Mercedes smiled softly. "Hey, soul sister, a suggestion? So maybe, like later? Maybe you wanna bend Kurt's ear about this too. Don't get me wrong, I'm here to listen. But…"

"You're not gay," she whispered and sniffed. "I know."

"Well, not as far as I know yet, right? And maybe you're not either. All kinds of in betweens out there, right? Maybe it's a Rachel Berry only thing?" Mercedes dipped her head and caught her eye and winked. "And I may not be gay, but well, I'd be blind and deaf if I didn't admit our Miss Berry has a fantastic voice, and legs to die for. I'm sure she has many other redeeming qualities. Somewhere. Deep down. But don't tell her I said that, 'kay?"

Quinn laughed a little. "I'll take it to the grave. You know, she's actually a very nice person, when she's not—"

"Talking a mile a minute. About herself. Or Broadway." Mercedes finished for her.

"Exactly. She's smart too. What a change for me, eh?"

"True dat. Well, you know Puck is smart in his own way. It's just street smarts. Or something. But yeah, smart is good. And yeah. It's the smarty pants part of her that usually gives me trouble. Hey, maybe she'll have a PowerPoint presentation for when you guys have your talk. Speaking of which, when are you going to schedule that?"

"Says another smarty pants. Sheesh. Anyway, good question." She took a noisy breath and blew it out. "Enough of this. You're right though. Hand me that. Please?" She pointed to her phone.

Mercedes leaned over and tossed her the phone. "Wow, look at you being proactive and shit."

"Yeah, yeah. And hey, I did learn a lesson or two last year. You can text Kurt. Just…"

"I won't tell him anything he doesn't already know. Cool?"

Quinn's face went a little grim again. "I hope that isn't much. At least not yet. Please, please. This does NOT need to get out, at least not the way things stand, okay?"

"I'm hearing you, don't worry. I'll try to corral Kurt too, if it's an issue."

She looked at her friend, who had helped her through so much the year before. She nodded and smiled as sincerely as she could. "Thank you."

"Told you. I got your back."

**########**

Kurt stood in the kitchen with his cuffs rolled neatly up, as he finished straightening the kitchen. He glanced over at her. "Well that was muy rapido. Que pasa?"

Rachel looked at Kurt and shook her head. "Please. We haven't even started."

Oh, he made his mouth into an 'o' and cocked his head. "Okay then. I see. Everything okay down there?"

"I came up here to cool off a bit. I'm a little tired, as you noticed. Would it be alright if I made some more tea?"

"Help yourself my dear." He opened the cabinets and waved his hand indicating several types to choose from. "Perhaps some Tension Tamer? Or some kava tea, good for stress?"

Rachel gave him a hard look, but snorted in amusement. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt would it?"

He smiled at her. "Now, if I could just get Finn to actually drink some too, then we'd be all set, right?"

"From your mouth to…Finn's ears?"

"But of course. And I must say it's so nice to hear you finally recognize my deity-like qualities." He smirked at her as she turned the kettle on again. "Speaking of ears. Despite being forced to listen to Mike sing a solo last week, I do still have two good ones. If you care to bend them."

The brunette furrowed her brow as she tried to reach for the Tension Tamer box of tea on the second shelf, swiping at it ineffectively. Finn was good for reaching things she'd give him that. Kurt noticed and laughed at her. "Here, let me."

"Why thank you, Kurt. You're always such a gentleman."

"I am, aren't I?" He smiled graciously and with humor at her. "So, Finn is down there conjugating…something then? I think I see Mr. Schue enough as it is. I am so very glad I am taking the Language of Love."

She scrunched up her face. "I thought that was Italian."

He waved his hand dismissively. "Please. You say _patata_, I say _pomme de terre_. Which one sounds more appealing, I ask you?"

She bobbed her head and nodded as she weighed, finally ceding him the point. "Fair enough."

She looked around the small but pleasant kitchen for a moment, trying to decide if it would be prudent to say anything to Kurt. Perhaps she could be circumspect enough to satisfy his curiosity without actually giving too much away. She crossed her ankles and studied the pattern on the kitchen floor. "So…I've been thinking."

It took every ounce of his will power for Kurt to not turn instantly and jump all over the opening, but he didn't. He simply echoed her phrase, "So you've been thinking."

"Yes…and I was just downstairs thinking…that Finn is really not living up to my vision of Glee Co-Captain just at the moment. If someone who spends more time than a supportive captain should talking badly about other members of the club, then what the hell? Let's elect Santana for crying out loud."

Kurt almost guffawed at that, as he considered it. "Well, we wouldn't be hurting for members. I'm pretty sure she would just shanghai or conscript anybody she wanted to, regardless of talent, or lack thereof. We'd have a bevy of THE most attractive, sadly off-key males and females at our fair institution of learning."

Rachel giggled at the thought and had to agree.

Kurt stopped giggling and considered the scenario. "Well, it wouldn't hurt to have some more male eye-candy to look at, am I right?"

"Ew. I didn't know you could channel a gay Noah, Kurt."

"Ew. Point taken."

They fell silent as their giggles subsided, and Kurt looked at her with more seriousness. "So…you're not currently particularly happy with your counterpart. Is that what I'm hearing here?"

She shrugged and said nothing.

"Okay. So this is about your unhappiness with your 'Co-Captain.' I see. Then may I ask if this limited in scope to things relating to Glee?"

She cut her eyes sharply to him. Damn him.

He saw it and stopped. "I take it back, forget I asked. Just…argh."

"Just what?" Her eyes pinned him in place.

Kurt clapped his mouth shut. "Nothing."

"Kurt, just tell me. What?"

"Rachel, I'm not saying a thing against Finn. I'm really not. He's a goober. A big tall, sometimes vacuous, but generally very nice goober. With a disarming smile, I'll grant." She opened her mouth to speak but he cut in. Again.

"Pssshhht. Wait." He made a gesture with his hands to indicate she should close her mouth. She eyed him sulkily, but held her tongue. "I'll say this, and then? I am _finis_. I say good day."

Rachel opened her hand and waved it expansively. "I give. The floor, briefly, is yours."

Kurt dipped his head in acknowledgment. "Thank you." He took breath and weighed his words. "In a nutshell; two people can both be very good people and not be the right people at the right time. Together I mean."

She dropped her head to the side and looked at him. "And?"

"And don't EVEN think that this has anything to do with…what…perhaps at one point might have been the teensiest, tiniest, perhaps, of crushes on that boy. Believe me. So over that. And you know what? Maybe that is part of why I have a clear view of this. Rachel Barbra Berry? We are going places, you and I. We are smart, driven, talented people. And I know I don't have not a lot, scratch that, okay, ANY practical experience in this department…dating I mean. But…but, well…at least you know what a Vietnamese Lettuce Wrap is!"

Despite her ingrained mild distrust of the usually inveterate gossipmonger, she chuckled.

She looked at him and waited for him to expound on his odd statement. "Well aren't we the match made in heaven then?"

Kurt put his hand on his hip and straightened himself to his full almost five foot ten inches and smiled. "We would be FABulous."

"We would."

He tilted his head back and forth, as he looked off to their pretend future. "Alas. It would end in an amicable divorce. We'd both star in a serious but charming Orlando Bloom vehicle and the rest would be history. We'd stay friends. You'd try to convert him back to vegetarianism, to no avail. In the end, we'd split custody of the cats. I'd get Orlando. You'd get the house in the Hamptons and the studio in Manhattan. I'd get the one in Castro, oh, and the townhouse in Vancouver. You'd go on and be happy…with your next co-star. Voila!"

She laughed at the scope of his tale. "Orlando Bloom? And we'd have cats? Really?"

"Tybalt and Mercutio."

"Tybalt and…? But of course." She laughed shook her head at her friend and occasional rival. He did have an imagination and vision to rival hers, clearly.

"Wait. The Hamptons. Yeah, I don't think so. I've got the apartment in Manhattan. I'll take the Castro or Vancouver."

"Oh whatever. We'd work it out. Finis." He turned to face her, crossing his arms. "My point is eyes on the prize, sistah. Don't sweat the here and now too much. And for the love of…Barbra, or whomever you happen light a candle to, don't let our resident Boy Wonder…hold you back. Or down. Or whatever. If he is what you want, have at it." He dropped her brow and looked at her seriously, as he dropped the teabag into the teapot. "Just remember; want and need are two different things. You don't 'need' anybody."

She studied him again, smiling slyly "You and I, Kurt? We would be quite the power couple, wouldn't we?"

"Devastating. We would rule." She almost believed him. She half-smiled. "Too bad I'm not entirely sold on the cats."

He quirked his brow and grinned cheekily. "Too bad indeed. Something to consider though? And because I almost actually like you now, and I can see you're clearly not quite up to snuff, I shall refrain from commenting on the obvious double-entendre there."

Rachel twitched her shoulders back and her eyes narrowed in confusion. Then they widened as she sputtered in surprise. But she said nothing. Her ears felt hot again.

"You can be alarmingly perceptive Hummel, has anyone ever told you that?"

"Well, some of us don't have the proverbial Sixth Sense, so we just have to watch closely."

Kurt sniffed and pretended he noticed nothing, as he handed her the tea. "Okay, class dismissed. Tea for one?"

She took the tea with a nod of her head, still a bit red. "Si, Senor Hummel. Muchas gracias, mi amigo."

"C'était mon plaisir, ma soeur."

She was surprisingly reluctant to leave the kitchen, but she turned to go.

She descended the stairs, mildly surprised to see Finn sitting at his desk, actually studying. His knee bouncing a staccato rhythm in time with the pencil he was drumming on the desk. He looked up and smiled, only a little.

"Hey, feeling better?"

She pressed her teeth hard against the inside of her cheek. She looked at his generally sweet face, realizing she was no longer mad just sad. So she lied. "Yes."

"Really?"

"Well, tea is a wondrous thing. You should try some." She tried to beam at him. If he thought it was a fake one, he didn't indicate so.

He took a deep breath and slapped both hands on his knees. "So. Uh, will it help me ace this test? Because I'll drink it if it will."

She exhaled slowly and lied again, cheery smile still on her face. "Well, it just might."

The goofy smile he gave her made her chest constrict now as he replied with enthusiasm. "Okay then. There's hope for me after all!"

Her stomach flipped and she sipped compulsively and gratefully at her tea. "Well they say that genius is one percent inspiration, ninety-nine percent perspiration."

The lanky boy chuckled self-deprecatingly. "Good thing I shower so often, right Rach?"

She slumped unceremoniously onto the small, uncomfortable couch next to him and tried to resist the urge cry. She had everything she thought she wanted. It was as if the curtain had been pulled back on the Great, Dear, Sweet and Powerful Finn. And it turned out he was just a very tall boy; a very tall, sweet, and as Kurt had pointed out, vacuous boy.

"Okay, let's go over those irregular verbs, shall we?"

"Okay. Thanks Rach. You're the best."

Her throat was tight. She felt for her phone.

"I'll be back in a jiffy Finn. All that tea, silly me! Keep studying."

She scurried up the stairs and past Finn who gave her a look. Then she passed Kurt as he checked on his dad. She raised her hand, indicating she did not want to hear anything from him. She ducked into the bathroom and shut the door, she checked her messages again.

**Quinn:** _Hey. Having a talk with Mercedes. Can I call later? Much later._

Rachel wanted to smile and throw up at the same time. She was talking with Mercedes and Mercedes was the closest thing she could see Quinn had to a confidante. When it came to Cheerios, and plotting, it was probably Santana. She ran cold water on her hands and splashed her face. Then she answered the text.

**Rachel:** _Certainly. Studying til 4. How are you? Are you okay?  
__**Quinn:**__ So far. How about you?  
_

She thumbed out another quick text, in the interest of solidarity and support.

**Rachel:** _Okay. Over here, Kurt is…needling me. _

She smiled a little, despite the awkwardness of her entire day, and sent another follow up text.

**Rachel:** _This is weird. Very weird. But I like it?_

Her phone doinked almost immediately.

**Quinn:** _You like Kurt needling you? That is a very strange statement.  
_**Rachel:** _Texting you I meant. It's weird.  
_**Quinn:** _Good to know. Good weird?  
_**Rachel: **_Hm. I believe so.  
_

Thirty seconds passed, and she flushed the toilet as a decoy.

**Quinn:**_ You're just saying that because you think I'm hot._

She was definitely glad she'd chosen to take this break. It didn't lessen the burden of guilt she was trying to deal with, but it was nice not to feel alone with it. She allowed herself a grin finally as she replied.  
_  
_**Rachel: **_Decidedly._

**#### ######**

Mercedes watched her as she smirked and grinned and texted. "Quinn Fabray. You're blushing over there. And you're ignoring me. Great. Just great. I'm starting to see this entire past year and a half as one big juvenile pull Rachel's pigtails in class because you like her scenario, just sayin'. And yeah, okay, this just answers my question about whether you like her or not. I'll just sit here and talk to myself. La la la. Hey, so what're you going to do at school tomorrow? How is this all going to go down?"

Quinn was only half listening of course, but that managed to make it through and put a damper on Quinn's mood again. What _was_ school going to be like tomorrow?

_Yeah, Q, what ARE you going to do at school tomorrow.  
No fucking clue.  
Great. Well as long as you have a plan and all.  
Not helping._

She finally turned away from her phone after the last text and shrugged. "Huh, hang on, what was that about going down? Who said that—"

She squeezed her eyes shut briefly.

_Don't say it. Don't say it.  
That one spoke for itself think Q. Welcome to my little corner of the gutter._

The blonde covered her mouth and faked a yawn. When she cracked her eyes to check, Mercedes was just shaking her head at her. "Uh. Wow, you really are tired, aren't you? What's going to go down at school."

Quinn's mouth turned round as she spoke. "Oh. Yeah. That. Uh, believe me when I say I have no earthly idea what will happened tomorrow. But, I mean, nothing has to er, go down. At school. I'm going to get up, go to Cheerios, take a test, and then go to Glee. Everything else? Dunno yet."

Another shake of the head and the diva drawled. "Well, as long as you have a plan and all."

The fact that Mercedes echoed her snarky inner critic was not comforting. Not at all.

She turned back to her cell one more time.

**Quinn:** _Maybe you could swing by my house after studying. We could maybe talk?  
_**Quinn:**_ If you're not too tired that is._

_Oooh… nice job reminding her how and why she is so tired again. I'm almost impressed Grasshopper.  
I'm not dignifying that with an answer. Which is probably progress. Less crazy is good._

_**A/N Please read and review and let me know if you liked. It was more fun to write as I wasn't multi-tasking so much, just enjoying the day! I think this one works better than last chapter. I hope! Hope this one flows a bit better at least. It's amazing how not trying to work at the same time as writing will help in that regard? **_

_**Let's see, this chapter brought you by…some IPA from the local microbrew that we brought home in a growler. And… some…Alana Davis, Modest Mouse, Matt Nathanson, Michael Franti & Spearhead, a little Gaga, some Gomez, and oddly enough Bare Naked Ladies. Not sure where the last one came from. I think that was the weather and not the fic.**_

_**A/N2 Also. I am bound and determined to one day finally name a pet Tybalt, dammit. Cat or dog, I don't care at this point. Next male pet? Tybalt.**_


	37. Chapter 37

**Pairing: **_Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up to…Silly Love Songs I think.  
**Rated:** R for language

**A/N: Well…still Unbeta'd. **

**A/N Thank you all again for your reviews, the ones that always are kind enough to review and the ones that made me feel like last one was a pretty decent chapter. Thanks! They definitely make me think and want to write more, thank you! They were lovely. Hopefully this will also be such a pleasing chapter… : ) It is certainly a long one! Oh, as for the Spanish? It has been ages since I took it…so, yes, I threw it into Babelfish, blame them if it's completely off! ;) My favorite phrase (besides mas cerveza of course) was Tengo un delor de cabeza. It might be related to the mas cerveza. Maybe.**

**Also, thanks to all you anonymous reviewers I can't thank personally! :)  
**

* * *

**########**

**Quinn:** _Maybe you could swing by my house after studying. We could maybe talk?  
_**Quinn:**_ If you're not too tired that is._

Rachel bit her lip and smiled at the text. Just this morning she'd been so certain she should be stoic and do the honorable thing and take some time away from the other girl. Mere hours later why did that seem so laughable?

She stared another few seconds. Just seeing her name on the screen did weird things to her, it was ridiculous. She fingered the keys on her phone for a moment before she typed out a positive, but relatively neutral text.

**Rachel:** _That might be good. I'll see what I can do._

She smiled and nodded to herself, pleased with her restraint. Especially considering what she really wanted to do was leave Finn to fend for himself on the Spanish. What she really wanted to do was drive at unwise speeds through populated neighborhoods to the other girl's house, burst inside, grab said girl —

The phone buzzed quietly again.

**Quinn:** _Okay, great. I'll be home soon. FYI, mom is home. You're safe from me… ; )_

And…give her a big friendly…hug? Damn. After she said hello her mother of course. Her shoulders dropped in disappointment. It was probably for the best anyway, since it appears she would now be forced to abide by her earlier, stupid, honorable plan.

She tapped her phone, trying to decide if she should leave it at that. She definitely needed to get back downstairs and attempt to focus on helping Finn.

**Rachel: **_What if I think safe is sometimes overrated?_

She grinned, thrilled with her own daring. She finished straightening up in the bathroom. She was really just killing time as she waited on pins and needles to see if she got a response. She was not disappointed and she continued to grin like a mad woman as her phone vibrated.

**Quinn:** : ) _Wow._ _Never thought I would hear Rachel Berry say that. I kinda like it. Now, go study. I'm sure he needs it._

She read it one more time, loving that Quinn had no problem realizing that Rachel wasn't the one that _needed_ to be studying. She snapped the phone shut. She had been exhausted just a few minutes before, and now she was coiled up with energy and good humor.

Kurt tilted his head at an angle and squinted a bit at her as she bounced out of the bathroom. She waved at him and grinned.

He shook his head and picked up his phone. Something so very definitely up with that girl.

**Kurt:** _I hope you have gathered sufficient intel. I don't what's up, but it's something._

**########**

Studying turned out to be less of a chore than it had appeared it was going to be earlier. Not that she paid attention, really. She was prepared already. She didn't need to do a lot for herself. Her mind wandered.

_Abrazar, abstenerse, confiar, acostarse, descender_… While Finn's pencil eraser tapped out a rhythm as he muttered verbs to herself, Rachel ran through phrases in her mind, entertaining herself with her irregular verbs. Abstain. Embrace. Confide. To go to bed. To descend.

I don't want to abstain. / No quiero abstenerme.  
I want to embrace Quinn. / Quisiera abrazar a Quinn.  
Should I confide in Kurt. / ¿Debo confiar en Kurt?

Okay, no conjugating those last two, she told herself sternly. You will NOT sit here, with your sweet but dumb as a box of rocks, something less than terrific kisser boyfriend conjugating those last two. Do not do it. No.

She took a noisy breath, determined to get a grip. The word grip itself, caused her to convulsively clasp her hands at the sleeves of her sweater, images of blonde hair between her fingers jumped into her brain, and she bit down on her lip. Hard. A completely inappropriate urge to giggle bubbled up from her gut.

Really she was just torturing herself now. She seriously needed to exert some self-control here. She whacked herself in the head suddenly, startling Finn out of his studying.

She looked up at him and he was looking at her with wide eyes. "You alright? I thought this stuff was easy for you. I'm sorry, don't get so frustrated, Rach. I can help you."

She smiled at him weakly. "Oh, no I'm fine I was just… trying to memorize 'destruir' and 'dolor'. You know…'to destroy' and 'to hurt.' You know, just using a visual, or physical aide if you will."

He looked at and raised his brows in consternation. "Okay…well, don't hurt yourself over there." Then he smiled his lopsided smile that she had always found so endearing. He shook his head and ground his fists into his eyes. "Jeez, really Rach. How do you know all this?"

She half-smiled back at him. "I'm used to memorizing music Finn. That probably helps."

She was amazed that she suddenly found it so easy to be kind the sweet tall boy. Just half and hour ago she was ready to absolutely throttle him.

"Yeah, but I memorize football plays. You'd think I'd be better at this, right?"

Yeah, you'd think. She kept her uncharitable thought to herself.

"Well, you're tired Finn. That makes it harder. I should probably get going. Just stick with this list. I'll leave you my notes, okay? I can look at them during lunch tomorrow?"

He looked at her and scratched the back of his head. "Uh, yeah, sure." He stood up. "You can stay for dinner if you want? I think Kurt is making something. I'm supposed to help I think. I mean, we haven't really seen each other much lately."

He craned his head around watching her as she stood and started gathering her things. She stood next to him, now shouldering her bag. She stood straight and dropped her hand to squeeze his shoulder. She bent over and kissed him next to his ear.

"I appreciate it Finn, and I'll thank Kurt and your dad on the way out. I do still have a test on Mary Shelley and Frankenstein to study for."

"Oh, okay. Uh, I forgot. Oh hey? Are you coming over after Thanksgiving? I don't think we have any Tofurkey, but there will be other…stuff you can eat. Or are you going anywhere with your dads this year? Don't you go…do something?"

She straightened up and squeezed his shoulder again.

"Yes, Finn. But I'll see if I can get away on Thursday. I'm not sure though. Maybe in the afternoon if I can, okay?"

He started to push away to stand up. She remembered that sometimes he could actually be a gentleman. But today? She didn't really want him to be today. On the one hand she didn't want to be fighting with him, and on the other, she didn't want him being any of the nice things she had grown to appreciate in him. The slightly nauseous feeling in her stomach increased the nicer he was. She forced her smile wider.

"No, don't get up. Get back to work, mister. You know you can ace this, Finn. I'll…text you later, okay?"

He stayed in the half standing, half sitting position for half a second before he slumped back down. "I know, I know."

"An A or even a B in Spanish will help negate the C you're pulling in Chemistry, right?"

He let his pencil drop and he cracked his knuckles. "That is the plan, right? C if I'm lucky that is." He let his head drop to his chest sullenly before he continued. "Okay, Rach. I guess I'll talk to you later. I'm sorry about earlier. It's just that Quinn…well, I don't like you hanging out with her. I just—"

And we're back to square one she thought darkly. She took an even breath. "Finn. She is a teammate. She has changed. In a lot of ways. And while I agree you had a legitimate complaint, I would like to point that you have buried the proverbial hatchet with Noah over this. And I believe you need to do the same with Quinn. Otherwise you are subscribing to a pretty heinous double-standard in regards to what you find acceptable behavior when it comes to promiscuity."

He gripped his pencil hard and stood up and frowned at her. "What? What does that even mean?"

She tried not to roll her eyes and was only marginally successfully. "Promiscuity?"

He shook his head bitterly. "No. I'm not an idiot, Rachel. I know what that means. I've been in the Celibacy Club after all. I mean the double-standard. I don't get it!" The volume of his voice increased with his frustration.

She crossed her arms annoyed and defensive again. "It means, Finn, that apparently it's acceptable and permissible, and more importantly forgivable for MEN to be promiscuous as far as you're concerned. But you think, what? That Quinn should be wearing some scarlet letter? THAT is the double-standard. You forgave your male best friend, but you can't forgive Quinn. And before you say anything else, you know I'm all about second chances and forgiveness. You forgive one? Then you forgive the other as far as I'm concerned."

He just looked at her, breathing hard through his nose, like a bull she thought. "I don't understand you Rachel. She's hurt you. She's hurt me. Hell, she's hurt Puck. She even tried to take down the Glee club."

She held up her hands. "Finn. Let's stop this right now. We are going to have to agree to disagree on this. I think it's best if we leave it at that. I'm not going to tolerate anyone bad-mouthing Quinn." She stopped. "Or any other members of our team. If you're going to be a good co-captain, then I think you need to examine what kind of example you are setting."

He squinted at her, like if he squeezed his eyes enough he could see the Rachel he wanted to see there. He clenched his hands again for a moment. She couldn't decide if she should storm out, or wait and see what effect her words had.

He flopped down heavily on the couch, his hands unclenching. She was glad to see he wasn't going to punch any pillow or throw something. He waved his hand in her direction. "Whatever. Sometimes I just don't get you Rachel. But…whatever."

"I know Finn. But thank you for considering what I have to say. I'll text you later, if you'd still like that is."

She hoped she wasn't giving him too much credit. It was a habit of hers.

"Yeah. Sure. Whatever." He mumbled. He looked at her again and tilted his head. She nodded and smiled stiffly. She could see he was still trying to figure out why this was happening to him. He had the wounded look he had perfected. As someone who had spent an inordinate amount of time wondering 'why me' as slushie after slushie was thrown at her, she had little patience for Finn the star quarterback's 'poor me' attitude that he whipped out occasionally.

She nodded curtly and turned to go up the stairs, taking her unspoken thoughts with her. She found she couldn't quite keep the stomp out of her step.

**########**

She had certainly indulged in bouts of self-pity for parts of last year, and the year before. But after awhile, she just accepted she couldn't change it for the time being. High school would end one day, and she'd get out of Lima. And until then? An extra set of clothes in the locker was how she dealt with things. She knew that feeling sorry for herself wasn't going to change anything. It wasn't going to change the once daily slushies, it wasn't going to change her relationship with Shelby, it wasn't going to change the sad and embarrassing way things had ended with Jesse. It wasn't going to make her less of a target.

Her therapist and her dads had helped her see that.

She had seen that Finn the Star Quarterback had always been at a loss when dealing with the negative aspects of being further down on the social ladder than he was accustomed to. And lately? She was finding she was starting to want to tell Finn the Boyfriend to go fuck himself.

She reached the top of the stairs, half-wondering, half-hoping in a way that he would call after her. He didn't. She really shouldn't have expected him to. And she really didn't want him to, she conceded. It just hurt her ego a bit that he let her leave angry and didn't seem to care. She opened the door with a rough twist of her wrist.

She slipped out her phone and with less weighing on her than she thought, and sent the text she had saved as a draft.

**Rachel:** _Are you still at Mercedes? I'm through here_. _Still want me to come by? _

Another deep breath and she schooled her features as she stopped by the kitchen. Kurt looked up with quick eyes.

"Ms. Berry? Is our boy ready to ace his test?"

She cocked her head. "I'm sure he'll do fine."

He let his eyebrow quirk just barely as he turned back to the cabinet and retrieved a casserole dish. Clearly, that was a fun hour of studying, but he didn't let the comment out. He went with a neutral comment.

"So? Are you staying for baked chicken with cauliflower mashed potatoes and roasted asparagus?"

"No, but thank you Kurt. That sounds lovely, and very heart healthy as well." She had great admiration for the job the boy was doing taking care of his dad and making sure he ate correctly.

Kurt made an exasperated noise. "Well, try telling dad that. At least with Finn, I just tell him it's healthy and will help him play better football and develop better muscles. Oh, and I told him I got the recipe from Sam." He shook his head and smirked. "Boys."

She smiled at him. "Indeed. Also, thank you for the tea and…the talk. It was much appreciated. Really."

He nodded as he rinsed the pan and dried it and set it out to use. "Anytime." He looked over at her. "Anything else you want to lay on me?"

Her lips curved at the edges just barely. "You are far too clever by half, Kurt. Not at the moment though. You might use it against me in our divorce in…what? 2025?"

He snickered a little. "I see. Yes, well, let's make it 2020, shall we? I don't want Orlando to wither before I get to him."

She laughed and nodded. "Sounds like a plan. Okay, I'm going to say good bye to your dad, unless he's napping?"

"I think he's awake. The game is still on and all. And I hear him muttering in there. Smart money says Finn will be up here watching the end of it any moment."

She rolled her eyes. "Not a bet I'd take."

"Smart girl. As for talking? Well, anytime. I'm here."

She jumped a little as the phone in her pocket buzzed. She ignored it, and tried to ignore the uptick in her pulse. His eyebrow almost met his hairline as he watched her. "Uh, If I'm not mistaken, you have a message. While I appreciate your decorum, feel free to check it."

She raised her eyebrow back and smiled a little slyly. "I'll get to it. I couldn't forgive myself if I were that rude." She wasn't about to give him any more information than he had. At least not at the moment.

He shrugged his shoulders expressively. "Well I guess we're even then. As I certainly couldn't forgive myself for being so rude as to call 'bullshit' on that. Just for instance."

She put both hands in her pockets and nodded a little. "Touché." They looked at each other silently, Kurt trying to get a rise. When it wasn't forthcoming, he sighed. "Can't blame a guy for trying, right?"

She smiled graciously, and sighed with relief feeling mildly victorious for not spilling her guts to her persistent friend. "Of course not. Thanks you Kurt. I'll see you tomorrow."

She strolled quietly down the hall to the living room and poked her head in. Burt Hummel was quietly watching the game.

"Goodbye Mr. Hummel. I hope you enjoy Kurt's dinner. It sounds lovely."

The older man removed his ball cap and scratched his head as he turned to look at her. "Oh Rachel, hi. I thought you might be staying? There should be plenty."

She smiled and shook her head. "Oh thank you, but I've got to get some other studying in as well."

He nodded at her. "Right. Well, have a good one. Think happy thoughts for the Bengals." He turned back quickly. "Dammit! Where the hell is the blocking?" He looked back again. "Oops, excuse me. Pardon my language."

She smiled as she pulled on her pea coat and her scarf. "Not to worry Mr. Hummel, I've heard much worse, I assure you. One of my dads is a fan. He is probably watching now. How are we doing?"

He sighed. "Well, I guess I'd say be extra nice to your dad when you get home. It's not looking promising."

She shook her head in sympathy, and gave him a genuine smile. "Will do, Mr. Hummel. Take care of yourself."

"I'm trying, I'm trying…" he smiled at her and waved. He wondered where Finn was and why he didn't see his girlfriend out. He must be taking this test really seriously. Alternatively, he was just being an idiot.

**########**

The bright day and the brisk air brought back the invigorated feeling that had filled her up when she was exchanging texts with Quinn. The last five minutes with Finn had squelched it out of her. But now it was back. She turned on her car and rolled down the window. She didn't realize how stifled she'd felt for the past hour. She pulled out her phone, nervous to see what it said. She wanted to see the other girl, but it made her anxious too.

**Quinn:** _Good. I'm home of course. And I'd like that._

She resisted the urge to crank the heat before the engine could warm the air up. She didn't resist the urge to grin like an idiot as she texted back.

**Rachel:** _Be there in 15. If I don't get lost._

**Quinn:** _Use your Sixth Sense. Even better, GPS? Dork_ ; )

She grinned, wondering when she started thinking that Quinn Fabray calling her a dork was a good thing.

**Rachel:** _Kidding. I remember how to get there. Leaving now._

She turned the dial from NPR to music, still grinning like a fool. She stopped when she hit the Motown station when caught the Nina Simone's version of '_O-o-h Child'_. Her dads had played it for her when she was younger, just like they had '_Brown Eyed Girl.' _Her thoughts flickered to the night before, Quinn singing along with her daddy. She couldn't describe the feeling in her stomach just then, but it was a good feeling.

Fifteen minutes and a few more Motown songs, and she was pulling up to the still impressive, but less formidable Fabray residence. She shut down the motor, and looked at the house. She thought she saw movement in the upstairs window. Looking at the front door, she wished she'd thought to ask which door to knock on. It was all fine to come to the side entrance when it had just been Quinn, Mercedes and Kurt involved. But if her mother was home, then she somehow felt like she should come to the front door, out of respect.

She got out and stood outside the car as she pondered the dilemma.

**########**

Quinn peeked out of her bedroom window. She'd only been home half an hour, and felt like she'd barely had time to freshen up after leaving Mercedes' house. She'd promised to text her or call if she needed to. And Mercedes' had reiterated her pledge to keep her mouth shut and help keep Kurt reeled in if necessary. She was glad she'd been able to share some of what had happened. It had lifted a huge weight off her chest and heart, one she'd barely even had time to gauge the true weight of yet. She had also had noticed a slight drop in frequency of appearances of her inner snark monster. She was suspicious of that development. But…again, less crazy is good.

_Oh, I'll be back. Enjoy your furlough.  
Awesome. As always._

She looked at her watch and looked out again. Just as she finally saw Rachel's car pull up, she heard her mother calling up to her. "Quinn? Tell me, does your friend like tea? Or juice? We have tea, but I'm picking up more juice at the store."

That was another change itself. Russell Fabray had made sure his castle was a quiet one. Unless of course he was on a tear. Then it wasn't so quiet.

She took a great pleasure in calling loudly back to her.

"Rachel likes tea fine mom, don't worry about it!" She let the curtain drop a little as she looked through day curtains. She saw the brunette in the car, but she hadn't exited it yet. She smiled a little. Maybe she was a little nervous too. Finally she got out.

She was wearing the same jeans and sweater of this morning, with a cute blue pea coat and scarf. Jeans, she repeated to herself and her pleased grin blossomed.

_So, looks like she didn't change for Frankenteen after all. She still looks hot, does she not?  
She looks worried. Or confused.  
Well go get her, Tiger.  
So much for furlough from crazy. It was nice while it lasted._

She watched her from the window still. The other girl looked somehow uncomfortable, Quinn thought. Finally it dawned on her that knowing Rachel she probably couldn't decide if she should use the side entrance off the mud room like yesterday or the front door. It didn't matter one way or the other, but she could see Rachel being worried about that sort of thing. She knew her own father would have had a fit if a boy came 'courting' and didn't come to the front door.

_So now you see Rachel, and think she's come a'courtin' eh?  
Okay. Which language do I need to learn how to say 'fuck off' in exactly?  
Well you could try using hand gestures. But then everybody would know about the crazy.  
…_

She bounded down the stairs to head off the indecision. She opened the front door quickly and stepped out into the cold. The tiny girl turned pivoted towards her, and turned red.

"Hey Rach, either door is fine. Come on in the old-fashioned way if you want though."

She smiled sheepishly, grateful. "Oh, okay, thanks. I wasn't quite sure what to do here."

"No, I get it. You do your fathers proud. My father, not that you should care, would also be impressed." She arched her eyebrow and backed into the entrance again beckoning. "Come on in. Don't be shy. I didn't know you did shy." Her eyes twinkled a bit and she smiled.

Rachel rolled her eyes, chagrined and acknowledged the oddity of Rachel Berry ever acting shy. Quinn reached for her hand and dragged her inside without any self-consciousness. It was perfectly normal for her to grab a friend's hand after all. She might have given it an extra squeeze though.

"You look cold. Mom's in the kitchen. Come on." She gave what she hoped looked like an encouraging smile as she jerked her head towards the more cozy back area. She leaned down close by the shorter girl's shoulder near her ear and whispered. "My mom is nothing like my dad. Don't be intimidated."

The diva smiled and jerked her neck a little. "Ears. Watch the ears."

Quinn barely covered the smug look that wanted to creep over her. She managed to look innocent. Which was feasible, as it had been an accident after all. A happy accident maybe. She leaned in again anyway, happy to have an easy excuse to do it again. "She's going to want you to call her Judy, fyi, not Mrs. Fabray."

Rachel pulled up short and attempted to give her a hard look and the she looked down at her arm meaningfully. The taller girl pressed her lips, trying to stop the smile as she saw the goosebumps. The smaller girl gave her a look that clearly said 'I told you so.' Quinn eyed her and started to lean in again. Rachel tilted her head away. "Ah ah."

The blonde smirked a little as she whispered. "I was just going to say…I'm glad you came. I…missed you."

Before Rachel could react, Quinn shrugged her shoulders matter-of-factly and pulled her along. As they rounded the corner. Quinn squeezed her hand before she released it, leaving Rachel's head reeling, and her heart thumping. Where had all the control from this morning gone?

"Hey mom, you may not have met Rachel before, I'm not sure. But I know you've heard her sing at our performances."

Judy turned to face them. "I have. I have indeed. You have the most lovely voice Rachel."

The older woman looked cheerful, if a little tired. Not at all what Rachel had pictured. "Oh thank you much Mrs.—"

The woman stopped her. "Oh, please. Call me Judy."

Rachel nodded, grateful that Quinn had warned her. "Well, thank you so much Judy. It's a pleasure to meet you. Your daughter also has a lovely voice, and her dance moves really contribute, just…so much to Glee."

Quinn crossed her arms and leaned her hip against the breakfast nook. She was almost shocked that the diva had edited out any references to being sharp on certain notes.

"Oh Rach. Mom knows Brittany is the dancer. Sure, I hold my own with the dancing and singing. But mom, everyone knows that Rachel is, well, pretty much top of the Glee pyramid if you will. With Mercedes and Kurt as strong contenders."

Rachel flushed under the compliment. This was just so weird. Forget all the obvious admittedly wonderful strangeness of the weekend. Quinn Fabray complimenting her in front of her mother was almost too much for her to take.

Judy turned on the water at the sink. "Well, Quinn said you two had some assignment to discuss or a test to study for. I'll fill the kettle here, just turn it on when you're ready. I'm afraid I now have to attend to the odious chore of running to the store the weekend before Thanksgiving."

Rachel made a sympathetic hiss. "I feel for you. I believe we'll be doing that as well maybe tomorrow. So I hope it isn't too bad for you Mrs…Judy." She smiled her most winning adult pleasing smile.

"From your lips to God's ears. I'll leave some turkey for your family to pick up. Oh, wait, Quinn said you're vegetarian. Do you eat that soy… what is it called?"

"Tofurkey? Yes, we, or I should say I do. My dads go for the more…traditional option." Quinn held her breath. Rachel had just casually inserted the fact that she had two dads in with another something less than traditional view. She eyed her mother surreptitiously. The older woman had a thoughtful, surprised look on her face.

"Well, if this Tofurkey thing is cheaper than a real one, I may be right there with you next year Rachel." Quinn subtly released her breath. Judy looked at her and the tiniest quirk of her eyebrow and smiled knowingly. "How about it Quinnie, shall I pick some up this year?"

The blonde's eyes got wide. "Uh, maybe next year mom. I kinda had my heart set on some dark meat this year? Sorry Rach."

"Hey, that's between you and your conscience and the turkey." She said it with good humor though.

Judy and Rachel both laughed. "I'm afraid that Quinn isn't used to change. And there has been a lot of it around here lately. Maybe I'll just keep with the status quo as far as Thanksgiving this year. I want to make sure she and her sister have enough to eat."

Quinn looked at her, surprised. "Is Em coming? Really?"

Judy took a deep breath and sighed. "I honestly don't know. She said she might."

Quinn smiled at her mom. "Huh. Okay, that would be…nice." Judy nodded and smiled back. Then she turned and went to the mudroom.

She pulled her coat on and picked up her keys and purse and smiled at the girls. "You two study hard. I'll be back…eventually." As she pulled the door almost shut she called back to her daughter. "I'll pick up some fruit if the prices aren't highway robbery."

Quinn smiled tightly. "Only if it's not sky high, okay mom?"

Rachel waved at Judy as she pulled the door shut without answering.

The door shut and they were alone.

"So." Quinn held out her hands.

"So…" Rachel tilted her head.

At a loss now, Quinn fumbled. "Well, shall we?"

Rachel crossed her arms, and answered slowly. "Shall we what?"

She wasn't making this easy, Quinn realized with a mental sigh. "Well, I thought we might go upstairs. To my room? And talk?

Rachel pursed her lips and nodded and her lips quirked. "Talk. Talking is good."

She could see and feel the effort it was taking both of them not to smile at each other, and it buoyed her just a little. She bit her lower lip and held it with her teeth. She dared a wink. "Yes, talking is good. Come on. I don't bite."

_Very nice, Q.  
Yeah, somehow I thought you'd like that._

Rachel raised her eyebrow at her, as her mind filled with thoughts other things that Quinn had done with her teeth. She shook her head and tread carefully behind the girl up the stairs.

**########**

Rachel entered the room, Quinn's sanctuary, trying to gather her thoughts. And all thoughts were now leading to the girl casually motioning for her to enter, smiling at her. She stepped inside, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

The abnormally silent brunette took a big breath like she was going to say something. Instead, she just looked at the other girl, taking her in. She looked gorgeous, just in her jeans and earthy green sweater. Her face and eyes were a combination of confidence and shyness. Probably because of the way Rachel had left her hanging just this morning. Her honorable declarations of honorable-ish intentions. That all seemed absolutely ridiculous now.

They'd been, well frankly, flirting all afternoon over texts. Hazel eyes held hers for a bit, then dropped. Rachel watched her toy with her lip, probably biting it again.

Enough was enough. The diva dropped her bag abruptly, and turned and shut the door firmly, keeping her hand on the door and back to Quinn for a moment. The cheerleader watched her, not sure what was coming next from the suddenly agitated looking girl.

Quinn took a deep breath and started to walk towards her speaking soothingly, pleading. "Rachel, hey, talk to me. That's why we're here, right?"

The hand Rachel held to the door smacked it suddenly and she turned around, her eyes were filled with something a bit wild, a bit out of control. It was not something the cheerleader had seen before. At least not in daylight. She stopped and waited for the suddenly feisty looking girl to continue. She felt like Rachel held all the power right now anyway. She held her breath when she finally spoke.

"We can and will talk. I promise you. We need to. I know we need to. But right now? Right now I feel like if I don't kiss you, I'm going to just explode." Quinn had the decency to look at least a little surprised. The taller girl took another tentative step forward, but the diva kept talking. "I don't know what I was thinking this morning, I'm so sorry if I made you feel like you were being worse than me somehow because I was trying…to I don't know."

Quinn moved quickly to her, catching the smaller hands that had become so animated and agitated. She stilled them. "Hey, hey. Stop it Rachel. Just…you? Again with the talking too much."

Dark brown eyes looked up, full of apology and guilt all at once. Quinn wanted to _want_ to be more honorable, but she didn't have it in her, not as she looked down at those eyes and those lips. Rachel pulled her hands free gently, and Quinn felt one of them at her cheek and one at the back of her head, pulling her down to those warm soft lips. There was a whimper and a groan as their lips slid together with new found familiarity.

After a moment, she felt teeth nipping at her lip and she groaned again; she pulled away a bit and her head spun, and the room swam a bit around her. That wouldn't do, so she reached out behind the shorter girl, hoping to feel the solidity of the door behind her. Thankfully, it was there. Quinn put her other hand to a narrow hip and moved forward, pushing Rachel inexorably, backing her up to the door with a thud. Rachel groaned and tightened her grip, pulling Quinn down again, kissing her fiercely.

It wasn't a sweet kiss, and it wasn't gentle either, but it was explosive, sending blood rushing everywhere again. Small hands fisted at her sweater down by her waist bunching it up to get to the skin beneath. Warm hands on her abdomen ghosted upwards and sent those damn goosebumps everywhere again. She pulled back and away, breathing hard. Her hands were fisted into Rachel's v-neck sweater at her collarbone. She moved one of her hands from the death grip there to cup the other girl's cheek gently. Then she leaned in and kissed the soft lips as gently as she possibly could. When she pulled away, Rachel smiled and leaned into the hand cupping her cheek. Something rustled next to her and she looked at it.

Quinn had to work hard to focus her eyes, and then giggled. Rachel started to giggle too, unable to help herself. It was just an extra clean Cheerios uniform, but it somehow struck them both as funny in the moment.

When the giggling subsided after a moment, they both took deep breaths and slowed their breathing.

Quinn looked serious after a moment though. She murmured her admission. "I…missed you. This. You. Kissing you. Which seems…"

"Impossible?" Rachel offered it meekly. Then she looked up. "Me too."

Quinn's lips curved a little and she whispered and she looked up at the ceiling. "Now what?" She felt the tip of a nose prodding her chin. She smiled and looked down into her earnest face.

"Well, I hate to be practical right now, and so do…other parts of my body. But, your mom will be home at an undetermined time, yes? So I think maybe we had better maybe actually talk or study. Or, something besides this. Because…yeah, this is doing things to me."

Quinn chuckled. "You and me both." But she nodded reluctantly. And moved her hands back to the gently hold the now very rumpled sweater. She tried to straighten it, with little effect.

"So…talking or studying are acceptable." She looked down at the chocolate eyes.

"Talking and studying." Rachel confirmed. Quinn released her hold and started to back away.

Rachel held her in place though, as she took her own hold of Quinn's sweater. Her eyes twinkled. "In a minute. Your mom's hardly had time to even get to the store."

"This is true…"

Quinn found herself turned around and it was her turn to hit the door with a slightly harder thud and a louder involuntary groan. Smiling against lips straining a bit to reach hers, she bent her knees just a little; immediately the petite body slipped into the gap, pressed fully against her.

_I have led you to the land of milk and honey, have I not, chica?  
Clearly I'm busy here. Shoo. _

She pulled back a bit and grinned, Rachel looked a little dazed. "God you're beautiful, Quinn." Then she grinned back, eyes bright and shiny.

The smell of vanilla and something different than yesterday wafted around her. She spared a millisecond to feel eternally grateful it wasn't some mix of Rachel scent and Finn's cologne.

"You're gorgeous, Rachel." Then she wasted no time as she pulled her diva in again, running her tongue across plump lips, losing herself in the taste and smell and feel of the girl, intent on enjoying herself for at least the next few minutes.

The land of milk and honey? God it felt like it.

_No, no, no need to thank me Q. Really.  
Five minutes? Can't I have five minutes?  
Like I have a damn snooze button…_

**A/N: Go Liverpool! It's a tough weekend at the Liverpool homestead, as its derby day…We play Arsenal, and gf is a Gunner fan. Boo hiss. Well not really. I just hope it's a good game. Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter and that things look more like they're going in an acceptable direction at this point…? : )**


	38. Chapter 38

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride_

**Pairing: **_Eventual Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up has already aired.  
**Rated:** T

**A/N: Thanks everyone once again for continuing to read and comment, and all the alerts and adds, and especially the reviews. They bring joy to me, and I'm so sorry that after the lovely response, I went radio silent, and I'm truly sorry for the break. Please see note below for explanation. Thank you anonymous reviewers 'bob' and '5dayweekend' for your lovely comments. And 5dayweekend?…lol. You cracked me up. Yes, there are some Americans who watch football!. At any rate, colour me especially honoured. I shall continue to labour, in hopes that the flavour of humour that you have come to expect from me is still evident. ;P Okay, screw it. No more of that. Too much effort to put in those superfluous 'u's. **

**Again, sorry about the brevity of this chapter and the long delay. More soon, even if I can't recover my data.**

**xxxxxxxx  
**

The last thing Quinn wanted to do was stop kissing Rachel, but the small hips pinning her to her bedroom door were starting to drive into her more now, and it was starting to feel very good. Reluctantly she took hold of the belt loops at hips of the other girl's jeans. She had every intention of stilling the motion there, but somehow instead she was pulling her harder, and it felt amazing. She pulled away from the kiss and let her head fall against the door, taking a shaky breath.

"God. Okay, Okay."

The diva pressed a her lips to the hollow at her throat and backed away and waited for the blonde to open her eyes. When she didn't, she cocked her head and smiled seductively. "Okay? Okay what?"

Taking another breath, the taller girl bumped her head none too gently against the door again, still holding tightly to slender hips. "Okay, as in Rachel, if we don't stop, like right now, I think we run the risk of my mom coming home and finding us in flagrante delicto."

Rachel couldn't keep the amusement out of her voice as she waited for the other girl to open her eyes. Finally one hazel eye cracked open. "Oooh, why does that phrase sound as tasty as its meaning when you say it?" She felt a sharp tug on her hips again and had to keep herself from laughing. "But I take your point. I guess Judy Fabray would not be thrilled?"

Quinn pulled her head forward and leveled her gaze and raised eyebrow sardonically. "What do you think?"

The brunette tilted her head slightly and raising her own brow and smirked. "What do I think? I think you're getting close to not caring what—"

Quinn cut her off with her lips, and Rachel found herself guided backwards until she felt the sides of Quinn's bed at the back of her knees. Before she knew it she was flat on her back and had her fingers full of blonde hair, and the taste of Quinn's lips on her tongue.

The blonde was losing herself, logging the scents and tastes she couldn't seem to get enough of, wondering how the same smugness that used to drive her crazy about the girl beneath her now did so in an entirely different way. Her intention had been to make her point with the diva by working her up into the same state she found herself in, and it seemed to be working. But it cut both ways. She let out a breathy moan when she felt small hands moving up her ribcage to cup her breasts. Screwing her eyes tightly, she realized she really needed to stop, and now before they really did lose track of time.

She kissed those amazing lips once more before moving to her ear, and murmured regretfully. "We've got to stop, Rach." She placed a kiss on the ear and rolled off onto her back. She reached for the other girl's hand and squeezed it.

The small frame next her heaved a sigh and squeezed her hand back.

"I'm sorry Quinn, that was entirely inappropriate. I apologize."

Quinn squeezed her hand again and released it before rolling onto her side. "I don't know about you, but we have both been pretty 'inappropriate'. I like being inappropriate with you. I just…yeah, I'm not sure my mom wouldn't keel over at the site of us…being inappropriate."

The brunette rolled to face her and smiled a little. "Well, you and your mom have had a rough year, so I guess we don't need to add to that." The hazel eyes clouded a bit, but then cleared.

"Yes. It has been a bit of a tough year for the Fabray women. I think even my sister has had a rough one." She sighed and shrugged a little. "Anyway, so, aren't we supposed to be talking or studying?"

Rachel reached out a hand and cupped face, running a thumb over her cheekbone. She leaned in an pressed a soft kiss and pulled away again. "Yes, we are. And I strongly suggest we sit up. Because either I'm going to start wanting to be inappropriate again…or…I'm going to fall dead asleep. One or the other."

Propping herself up on her elbow, Quinn adopted a look of mock concern. "Oh? You didn't sleep much?"

Brown eyes rolled, and hazel ones crinkled with amusement. "Well, actually... I had the most interesting dream." She drew the word interesting out.

The blonde grinned. "Oh, do tell? And what was this dream? Was it a good dream?"

The diva looked thoughtful before smirking again. "Yes. Yes I believe I would have to say that it was. You see, there was this stunning blonde, and she was…"

"Stunning?" Quinn sat up grinning as she pulled her knees in and locked her arms around them, resting her chin there.

Rachel rolled up into a sitting position as well, mirroring the girl opposite her. "Oh yes. She was drop dead gorgeous."

"Go on." The blonde rocked back and forth, grinning, eyebrow cocked as usual.

Rachel grinned back and shook her head as she laughed. "Hm. I don't think I should. You might be shocked."

"Try me," came the challenge.

"That's what she said," Rachel smirked back.

**xxxxxxxx**

**A/N Okay guys, sorry for the really short chapter. I'm truly very sorry about the long, long hiatus. Here are the facts. The day after my last update, my grandmother passed away. A sad, but not tragic event, inasmuch as she had lived a full life. The week after that, I was actually feeling like I would get a ton of writing done, as gf was on a business trip for a week (she knows full well I goof off all week writing or whatever and clean frantically the last day.). So, Monday she leaves? I drop my laptop. Hard. On it's back/screen. After mucking with it all day, I have to assume it is the motherboard. And of course all my notes, and the chapter I had almost completed are on there. As I come to the conclusion that I need a new laptop (warranty expired), weather strikes. A microburst or downburst or something like that appears for twenty short minutes, and drops a limb from a tree in our yard and weakens the tree. I go buy a new laptop that evening. Next day…tree falls, thank God it takes out a gate and a fence panel, and not the corner of the house. Logistics and clean up that day, and I mess with new laptop. Wednesday? Uh…if you live in the South, you know what happened Wednesday. All day weather events, baseball sized hail, and tornadoes. Poor Birmingham and Tuscaloosa. Thursday? Cleanup from the tree and hauling away, and then and sleep because I was up listening to tornado warnings the night before!**

**Friday. Gf was coming home…so cleaning. Then…I had to leave for a week of work. So. **

**Thank you all so so much for commenting and reviewing and adding, you anonymous people too. This is short because I wanted to assure you guys I'm not abandoning this, I just had a crap ton of bad events that conspired to keep me from getting anything done on it til now.**

**On a good note, hell yeah Liverpool! We've been doing great! And tomorrow, go Chelsea!**


	39. Chapter 39

**A/N Thank you guys so much for your comments and reviews and messages once again, they mean a lot. : ) I'm sooo far behind on reading and commenting elsewhere, but am working on catching up. This was one of those hard to bend into shape as it was written at intervals chapters again, and I reckon it shows. But... I suppose that comes of not being able to immerse myself in it as much I as I like. And why do errors remain invisable until after I hit the 'submit' button, I shall never know. Oh well. Will fix as I find. Sorry again for the longer break too. Hope you enjoy it anyway. It's not exactly satisfying so to speak, but it's about as close to angsty as I get. There will be more talks. : )**

******A/N2: To all you folks graduating from various and sundry levels of education (now or maybe this month) I shall take a moment and say... yay you! Enjoy. Congratulations.  
**

* * *

Rachel rolled onto her side and propped herself on her elbow and looked at the blonde mischievously. "You know…maybe you could text your mom. I mean, do you and your mom text?

Quinn rolled her head towards her and narrowed her eyes, drawling out her response. "Yes, we do. Sometimes."

Rachel raised her eyebrow and caught her bottom lip between her teeth, but couldn't suppress her grin.

Quinn eyed her with suspicion. "I practically see the wheels turning in there."

The brunette lifted her chin. "Hmph. I was just going to say that…perhaps you could text your mom."

The blonde rolled onto her side fixing the diva with a look. "Yeeessss, I suppose I could. After all, we do have the technology. But to what purpose would I be texting, pray tell?"

Rachel shrugged with faux innocence. "Oh, just, for instance, maybe something to the effect of…hey mom, let me know when you're heading back and we'll help you unload everything?"

Quinn's nodded and whistled with respect. "Ah, an early warning system I see. Not bad Berry, not bad. I knew there was a reason I had to keep an eye on you last year. Lady MacBeth has nothing on you."

Brown eyes crinkled with amusement, even as she denied the backhanded compliment. "Oh please, I'm not that bad. Lady MacBeth? That's more like…"

"Santana?" Quinn immediately supplied the name.

"Exactly. Ooh, ooh, or Coach Sylvester." They both giggled a little.

When it subsided, Quinn noted the other girl's eyes narrow slightly, and flit to the side and back again. She poked her lightly on the breastbone. "Hey. I saw that. What's up?"

Lips pursed, the diva took a decidedly dramatic breath and released it. "You are an incredibly observant person Quinn Fabray. Often, I must say, annoyingly so."

The blonde twitched a shrug. "It's a gift. Spill."

The smaller girl inhaled and nodded looking decidedly more serious. "First of all go ahead and text your mom. I would like to make a good impression after all, and it really would be the polite thing to do after all. Helping her unload I mean, not me attempting to have my way with you, which I will have to forego for the moment."

Relief and disappointment battled it out at that comment, and Quinn tried to cover it with a little bravado and humor. "Yes, just guessing here, but mom would probably not think it very polite if you were to attempt to have your way with her daughter." She paused and put her finger to her chin in thought. "Assuming, of course that said daughter would even be susceptible to your charms. Sheesh Berry. Cocky much?" The diva shot her look she assumed was meant to be withering in effect. It was not; but she decided to forego pointing that out when she continued. "So. What you're saying here is that there will be no more attempting to get into my pants after all then…?"

Rachel's smile returned for a moment and bobbed her head back as if she were weighing her options. "Perchance I might be looking forward to establishing my prowess in the 'charm the pants off Quinn Fabray' department. Maybe." She half-grinned and raised her brow. Then she turned a bit solemn, clasping hands together with a sigh. "Just not at this moment. As much as I might have enjoyed attempting to have my way with you…? Well, back to reality, right?. We're supposed to talk, or study. And really? We need to talk, don't you think?"

Quinn didn't answer immediately, instead looking up at the ceiling, cursing herself for bringing up Santana at all, as she suspected that is what had brought this on. "I suppose we do" she conceded. She sat up and looked around for her phone, and tapped out a text to her mom.

**Quinn: **_Hey mom. Just let us know when you are headed back, we will help you unload._

Rachel sat up, and Quinn turned the phone so the other girl could read the text. The brunette nodded proudly and Quinn smiled a little shaking her head amused. She made sure her notification volume was on and tossed back on the bed.

"So. Talking?" The cheerleader crossed her legs and tried to be at ease as she opened her arms wide, then folded them as casually as she could across her chest.

"Yes. Talking." Rachel noted the slightly defensive posture and made an effort to not to mirror it, keeping her hands clasped in front of her.

"So…?" The blonde said, letting the word drag out.

"So…" Rachel began. "Tomorrow. At school."

"What happens?" Quinn guessed what she wanted to know quietly.

"Yes." Rachel confirmed with seriousness. "What happens?"

Quinn's phone buzzed, and they both jumped.

**Mom:** _How thoughtful, thanks hon! 45 minutes at least. Sorry!_

Quinn reached for it, read the text and showed it to Rachel. That taken care of, they squared off again. The taller girl shrugged.

"I don't know Rachel. I mean this is new territory. I'm not sure we can sort it in the hour we probably have. So, if you want to go back to trying to charm the pants off of —"

"Quinn…" Rachel rolled her eyes and admonished her as she leaned forward to give her knee a squeeze. The taller girl smiled guiltily and covered the smaller hand with her own.

Lips quirked up in a half smile again. "What? Can't blame a girl for trying."

That brought an answering smile to the singer's face "Of course not. I'm flattered. But…can you talk to me?"

Quinn squeezed her eyes shut tight and nodded. She opened them and tried to smile just a little as she took a deep breath "Tomorrow. Okay. I don't know Rachel. I've already told you that I'm going to have a talk with Sam. Regardless of what you….decide you want." She ducked her head and tucked hair behind her ear. "I don't want to pressure you. Forcing things hasn't gotten me anywhere in the end. Trying to learn from mistakes and all, don't you know? So yeah. You…and Finn, well you have history." She gestured vaguely. "Epicness. Whatever."

The smaller girl crossed her arms and looked out the window at the weak afternoon light for a few beats. "Epicness? What if I don't want this 'Epicness?' And by the way, you **do** know that isn't a real word, right?"

Quinn shook her head, smiling, if a little forlornly, before she answered. "Yes, smartass, I know that. But you know what I mean. You're Rachel Freakin' Berry. Of course you want Epicness. You live for it. You can't deny that!"

A half-hearted 'hmph' of indignation was the diva's first response before she conceded the point. "Okay. So perhaps there is some validity to what you're saying. Perhaps I do, maybe, tend to gravitate, in my own head at least, to this Epicness you speak of. I will allow I tend to the dramatic at the very least."

The blonde let a small snort escape as she rolled her eyes, but still looked at her with affection, mixed with a bit of knowing sadness. She went silent as her fingers fell to fingering the tiny delicate cross hanging from a box chain at her neck. "There is no maybe. And there is no half-assedness with anything you do Rachel. This is me. Quinn Fabray, erstwhile HBIC."

"Yes?" Rachel cocked her head. "Believe me. I am very aware of that. What exactly is your point here."

The blonde emitted a small puff of air and nodded before looking up. "Yeah. I'm sure you are aware. I've certainly always made sure of that, haven't I?" She couldn't help but see the raise of eyebrows and the wary nod of the head across from her. "Let's just say I was being all Sun Tzu and shit and didn't even know it. Yeah. Let's just say I made it a habit to know my enemies." Rachel looked up at that, hurt evident in her eyes, so she hurried to amend herself. "Former enemies I mean, Rachel. Former."

The smaller girl reached tentatively for what to say. "Quinn, I was never your enemy, truly I—"

Quinn pulled on the cross at her neck a bit hard as she cut her off with a harsh whisper. "I know that Rachel, I know that now. Maybe I always did." She looked up into brown eyes, wide open waiting to be read. She reached tentatively and brushed her fingers against smaller ones. "Hey, hey. I'm just laying it out there. I only know I convinced myself that I saw you that way. Whatever. I was wrong I guess." Her voice dropped and her throat tightened as she forced the words out in a voice barely above a whisper. "Okay. I don't guess. I know." Her voice got even lower and more tight. Flat. "My point is, about you? For…I don't know how long? You've wanted him. Finn. Presumably for who he is, not just for his reputation."

Rachel swallowed painfully and looked at the window again, away from the observant hazel eyes before she answered. She took a deep breath and nodded. "I did," she agreed. "But so did you." She tossed it back, trying to sound indifferent. She looked like she wanted to say more, but she didn't, leaving it there.

Quinn scooped her knees up and pulled them in tightly to her chest before looking up again finally. "Maybe. But probably not for the right reasons, looking back." She relaxed a little at the admission and took a deep breath before starting again. "Seriously, I don't want to stand in your way." She attempted a weak smile and a shrug. "You know, Epicness and all." Then she dropped her head to the side and fixed the other girl with a serious look, one the Rachel had to acknowledge.

The diva bit her lip and Quinn thought she looked rather inappropriately amused considering everything; the girl's voice was soft, but sure when she spoke. "Fine. Yes, Epicness. Perhaps I want Epicness—"

Quinn leaned forward to interject. "Rach, you deserve Epicness." She watched the brunette's lips press into a flat line.

The diva's brow furrowed a moment before she finally said anything. "But what if I don't want it with him?"

Quinn's heart picked up tempo and strength at the question, but she only looked out at the magical window they both seemed to keep turning to for answers. Finding none, she met dark eyes again. "Rachel, you have to know I'm a mess as it is. I don't have any answers for you. I can't tell you what tomorrow brings. I can't tell you in the literal sense, other than I will still want to be your friend tomorrow, regardless. And I certainly can't tell you in the metaphorical sense either. About us. This." She let herself smile a tiny bit. "Well, except that I'm sure, somewhere in your tomorrows, you'll be a star on Broadway."

Rachel's face brightened a bit, flushing with the compliment and the belief. Quinn rushed on not sure exactly what to say, without boxing either one of them in at this point. She wasn't ready for that, and she needed to start small. Catching the eyes of the suddenly demure diva, she continued. "But."

The coffee colored eyes looked up, questioning and vulnerable. Quinn was struck by that quality as she always was. It never failed. "But?" Quinn's stomach was fluttering now, but she ignored it and pressed on. "But. I like…you. There I said it. I like you. I like you as a person. I have for awhile now."

"As a person?" She could see the other girl holding her face carefully blank.

"Yes, as a person." The blonde confirmed.

Small shoulders sagged. "Oh. I…think you are a fine person too Quinn. Very much worth liking. You can be very kind, and even loyal…"

Quinn wanted to roll her eyes so very badly, but didn't. Instead she hurried on to correct the assumptions she could see the singer had started making. "Gah. I'm not finished. For the love of God, will you just let me get this out Rachel? Please?" She watched the diva swallow whatever she'd been going to say and nod, eyes wide.

Quinn growled and dropped her head, speaking to the space in front of her lap. "Apparently, for reasons that I am still working out as they are currently beyond me, I have also developed, apparently…unspecified…good…feelings. Feelings that frankly, considering…well, last night? And uh just a half hour ago? I would have to hazard a guess that these feelings I have are perhaps beyond the scope of mere Up With People, Glee Club, free to be you and me, you're a great person, kumbayah friendly bullshit." A deep breath and a pause and silence filled the air. "Well, that is unless you consider it normal in your world to want to kiss and touch everyone you like 'as a person'. Which I suppose is possible. But I rather hope not, because as much—"

The laughter she heard jerked her attention up from her lap, and Quinn looked up flustered, realizing how much she'd been babbling.

"Wow Quinn. I never dreamed you could pull out a ramble to rival one of my own. Although I must say that I like to think my ramblings, while tangential, are still rather more cogent and cohesive overall than yours. But still. Brava! I didn't know you had it in you Fabray."

Quinn sat up straight and leveled her with what usually worked as her most intimidating and withering of glares. She stabbed her fingers up, pointing to her own eyes. "Berry? Do you see this? This is me calculating the closest and best suited object to bludgeon you with right about now. Specifically the one that will hurt the most, and leave the biggest mark. Currently, that gymnastics trophy on the on the shelf to your left is the frontrunner, taking into consideration where we are sitting and the angle and how quickly I could get to it. And? It's got heft."

Rachel covered her mouth and tried to bite back the laugh that was erupting, but wasn't entirely successful. "Eep. I take it back, I take it back! You are a rank amateur rambler at best! A mere dabbler in the art." Her eyes twinkled, and Quinn could tell she clearly wasn't one whit intimidated, and she growled half-heartedly. Then she sighed and unwound herself from the jackknife she had folded herself into.

"Rachel, I'm trying here. To tell you what is going on from my side. But, really? Do we have to figure out everything right now? By tomorrow? I just don't think I have any real answers for you at the moment."

Rachel smiled kindly and sweetly now. "No, of course not. I hardly have the questions formed. However, I don't know if you've notice, but I'm a bit of an planner, if you will."

Quinn arched her eyebrow. "Uh, yeah, I've noticed. Just what is it you think you want to plan?"

"I don't know." She shrugged eloquently. "I…well, I have these 'feelings' for you too apparently. I didn't know if there was any way I could dare hope…" She stopped and let out a small groan and finished lamely. "I just want…I don't know yet. What to do about them, exactly."

"Well I don't know either!" Quinn's voice jumped an octave unexpectedly. "Look Rachel. You? Me? I don't know! I mean, I'm still figuring out where the hell all this of this came from. This time last year I thought I could barely stand to be in the same room with you. Let alone...well" She flushed a little. "You know." She rushed on to her point. "I mean come on! We've had a shit storm of things happen to us in the last year. Some of which we've done to each other…" She trailed off and looked at the other girl. She let her lips quirk a little. "And I don't mean that in a good way."

The diva rolled her eyes. "I got that. But points for the double-entendre there. Continue. Please."

The blonde sat up straight she flashed an eager smile. "Wait. I get points? What can I trade them in for?"

The brunette managed to suppress her smile and shook her head. "Quinn…"

The cheerleader pouted slightly before she continued."Okay. Fine. We'll come back to points." She looked up earnest again. "I was just saying…you and I? When you think about it, we've been orbiting each other for awhile now." She paused and looked at her once upon a time rival, picking at invisible lint on her bedspread as she continued. "All along I thought it was Finn that kept us crashing each other's orbits. I'm not so sure now."

Rachel nodded thoughtfully. "I like the analogy. Maybe you're right."

"Do I get points for that? Being right?"

Rachel shook her head, a little baffled, but amused and pleased to see the glint of humor and eagerness back in the otherwise melancholy eyes. Her lips quirked as well. "So, just out of curiosity, has anyone ever told you that you are slightly obsessed with keeping score Fabray? I'm just sayin'."

The cheerleader looked down, mildly chagrined and looked up again, face scrunched up but only mildly apologetic. "I know, right? I'm sorry. Guess it's the Fabray Way. Or…I don't know. Just..sorry. I'll be good."

"It's okay. As it turns out, I think it's kinda cute. And actually, I quite admire your competitive spirit. When it's properly directed of course."

The blonde let the smallest of smiles play on her lips, relieved. Then she pointedly gave her the classic eyebrow. "By properly directed, I assume you mean not at you."

The diva shrugged and snorted as she laughed. "I suppose that would be an accurate assessment." She eyed the emotionally drained looking girl before her. "So...how about we put a lid on our inaugural conversational foray into the exploration of…this, at least for the day?" She indicated the two of them with her hands. "Let's just…enjoy each other's company for the little bit of time we probably have left before your mother gets home."

Quinn nodded her head slowly. She was overwhelmingly relieved to be able to wade back into more familiar waters. She shrugged as nonchalantly as she could given fact she'd just admitted she had feelings for another girl. She focused on the girl in question and her gaze dropped to those beautiful lips, and all she wanted to do was taste them again. She had to admit she did in fact want to throw her down and do…things. Okay, maybe not throw her down. But yeah…things.

**_So yeah Q. Me here again.  
Joy.  
You said that you like her. __As a person__? WTF? Smooth Q. Really. How asexual can you get?  
Hey, I clarified!  
What? That was clarification? Not so much. What? You want me to give you points for effort?  
Damn right I do.  
Hey, maybe next time you'll 'clarify' that you ' feel' like throwing her down and running your…  
Hey! I learned something from Kurt the other day, just for you: _**_**Va te faire foutre.**  
…_

She dug nails into her palms and dragged herself from her never-ending internal monologue with a shake of her head. She met the other girl's eyes fully and nodded firmly. Then she gave the slightly puzzled, but smiling diva an impudent grin. "That sounds really good right about now. I hope you are still thinking I'm cute and admiring my competitive spirit when I dominate you in Scrabble." She allowed her grin to grow tenfold.

Rachel's mouth, which still held Quinn's surreptitious attention, dropped in mock disbelief as she let her own grin burst open. "Wow. Dominate me? Huh. I see. Well just so you know? I fully intend to open up a massive can of Whup Ass on you for that little competition. So of course I want you to bring your 'A' game, thus making the inevitable conclusion, my victory obviously, all the more satisfying." Quinn chuckled as she leaned forward a few inches into the diva's personal space. "Whup Ass? Really? Do your dads know you talk like that?"

The tiny girl tried to pull off an imperious attitude as she eyed her competition, but the bright shine in her eyes and the twitch of her lips ruined that effect somewhat. "They know how serious I am about Scrabble."

The blonde pursed her lips. "Oh really?"

"Really. And hey, serious enough to know Epicness isn't a word."

Quinn found herself wondering when the diva's self-confident demeanor had started being more attractive than annoying. "Well Berry, while I'm all for satisfying conclusions as you know," she practically purred as she arched her brow meaningfully and pressed her lips together to suppress her grin a little, "I have to warn you that I suspect that particular conclusion will not be to your liking, or your satisfaction."

Rachel semi glared at her, leaning forward just as she answered the challenge. "Oh reeeaaallly?"

Quinn leaned in a bit more, cocked eyebrow firmly in place, as if they were in the trash talking phase before a prize fight, facing off. "Really."

Rachel growled back, lips twitching with mirth. "Bring it."

At that, Quinn narrowed her eyes and smirked, intending to 'bring it' right there. But the diva beat her to it as the volatile chemistry between them asserted itself again, and she seized the opportunity to catch her in a searing kiss.

_**Way to turn the conversation our way, Q. Niiice…**  
**Busy here, back in your bottle Wingnut.**  
**Its Wingman, not Wingnut dumbass.**  
**You don't exist, ergo, Wingnut. Wingman. Whatever. Shoo fly, you bother me.**_

**########**_  
_

She growled in her throat a little at her own mental intrusion, but covered it by pulling the smaller girl backwards with her she dropped to her back.

When Rachel landed catching herself barely with her hands, she released her breath with a 'huff'. She stared down, panting a bit as Quinn stared up at her, watching her. She could see the hazel eyes changing focus minutely as she looked back at her. Her heart was hammering in her chest. As she tried to steady her breathing, she realized they had both said a lot, and yet almost nothing at all today. At least not out loud.

Dark brown and hazel eyes stayed pinned to each other, both of them caught up trying to decipher the other. Nothing had been solved, nothing outrageous had been declared aloud. But some silent exchange was taking place now and it hung heavy in the air around them, so near the surface as their gaze stayed locked tight. Rachel was completely taken in, tantalized by what she saw in the depths. She wondered if her own eyes were being so easily read. Snatches of her favorite romantic ballads danced in her head, a sure sign that she was tipping over the edge. But she knew that already, didn't she?

The tiny singer had no more time to contemplate that as she felt hands cupping her cheeks and pulling her down. She caught only one more glimpse of what was roiling inside the other girl before those hazel eye shut. They didn't flutter shut at the last minute, as they might just before a kiss; she had closed them firmly and deliberately, as if she knew what could be read there.

Sparing a moment to be briefly disappointed at being so summarily shut out, Rachel couldn't help the flare of excitement drumming in her chest just at the thought that the other girl even had those feelings at all.

For her.

Her stomach fluttered; there was something there, and the realization thrummed through her. Quinn might be afraid of it and honestly that was no surprise. In fact, the real shock was that habitually aloof girl had shared anything at all. But it **was** there. And that was something at once so startling and so very tempting.

Giddy with realization she let herself be drawn back down into a kiss, letting the delicious feel of those soft lips drag her thoughts away, warming her to her core. She ran her tongue across them now, and dipped into an even deeper kiss, dizzy again with the heat coming off them. She pulled away dropping down to scrape her teeth against the skin at her neck, loving the small groan it pulled from that throat, and the feel of hands playing in her hair.

**########**

Quinn shut her brain off to the best of her ability. She needed to. She'd felt so exposed and wide open under that probing gaze, and now she just wanted to lose herself in this moment, in the kiss, in her touch.

The feel of Rachel's lips and tongue fired everything up inside and out. She heard herself emit a groan as those lips moved down to her throat. She ran her fingers through the thick hair and pulled gently, dragging her back even with her. She closed her lips over the diva's plump lower lip and sucked lightly, reveling in the other girl's reaction, loving the feel of fingers clutching convulsively at her shoulder. Pressing her current advantage she twisted at the hips and reversed their positions and leaned in and kissed her fiercely, bearing down with her hips creating friction. She felt a hand tangling in her hair, and another hand at the small of her back pulling her in.

Small gasps filled the air they shared as the intensity of her emotions was safely drowned out, for a moment, by raw desire.

Falling into that moment, that opening, she stiffened and her skin prickled when she felt Rachel's hand glide under her sweater to palm her breast. She pulled away, biting her lip and shuddering as fingers rolled and pinched as she drove her hips downward involuntarily. The girl beneath her moaned softly and pulled her closer. Quinn risked a look down; when their eyes met this time she didn't shrink from the intensity she saw there. Holding her gaze, she slowly dropped down for another kiss.

The buzz of the phone somewhere off to their left pierced the haze, and a different kind of groan from each of them filled the air. She glared at the offending device as she turned her head towards the infuriating sound. Softening her look, she turned back to the girl beneath her and heaved a breath. The smaller girl was also breathing heavily.

"Saved by the buzz. Good suggestion earlier." She trailed off and pulled herself up and away with regret from the warm body. "Because without that..." She shook her head and whistled low with surprise.

"I know. I know." Rachel agreed, equally surprised at how quickly they had gotten carried away. "I almost think we need a chaperone..."

Rolling off completely she sat safely on the other side of the bed as they both fixed their disheveled hair and overall appearance.

Her pony tail pulled safely tight again, she shot Rachel a saucy look. "So you were saying. Really? Whup Ass?"

The brunette sniffed and answered back. "I do believe that is what I said. I feel I have a distinct advantage as I have no history of making up words like some people. Epicness. Sheesh." She scrunched her face up looking slighly guilty. "Secondly? Thanks to Finn? I'm afraid I've gotten quite good at spotting them."

Quinn chuckled. "Firstly, in your dreams. Secondly, I know your pain..."

**A/N: I'm just…aghast that Liverpool managed to lose to the referee (oh, and Tottenham, I think they were there too) at Anfield. No..I'm not bitter or anything. Gah. I'm going to pout now. Blame the game for my crappy editing this afternoon. ;) Off to sit on the porch with gf, who is also annoyed at Arsenal result.  
**


	40. Chapter 40

**Pairing: **_Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up to…Silly Love Songs I think.  
**Rated:** R for language

**A/N: Well…still Unbeta'd. **

**A/N Thank you all again for your reviews. Long hiatus. No excuses, just work. And more work life with pets and work. I think there was a long weekend somewhere in there too. Anyway, other than a few of the those days (like said long weekend), trust me, I'd rather have been writing. :/  
**

Rachel walked to the bureau and noted her still somewhat disheveled appearance. She heaved a dramatic sigh as she unbound her hair again and ran her fingers through it. She could see Quinn in the reflection watching her. Or at least her legs. She covered her grin as she lowered her chin and pulled her hair back to bind it up. The things she had learned about Quinn in a very short time were varied that was certain. She seemed to think she was good at Scrabble for one; and apparently…she a 'leg woman'. She stopped and frowned as a nagging thought occurred to her. "So you know what we forgot to do this weekend?"

Quinn glanced away and back again, this time locking eyes with her. "Why does that seem like such a loaded statement now? Alright, I'll bite."

Rachel tilted her head, amusement evident on her lips. "Will you now?"

Hazel eyes rolled as her face flushed before she recovered jauntily. "Didn't know you were into that Berry."

Fighting her own flush for half a moment, Rachel shot her a droll look in the mirror as she continued her attempts to tidy her hair, "Well you know, there are more things in Heaven and Earth, Quinn, than are dreamt of in your philosophy…" When she saw both of the other girl's brows fly up to her hairline she stopped her teasing "I'm kidding. What I meant before we delved back into double-entendre-land…again…"

The blonde cut her off. "Yes, we do seem to end up there quite a bit now, don't we?"

"Apparently. Anyway, what I was trying to say is…we never discussed what it is that we'll be singing for Mr. Schue's assignment. You know, since we were paired up and all."

Quinn's eyes widened as she realized it was true. "You're right." Then she giggled. "I know he is all for team unity and all, but do you think Mr. Schue envisioned…uh, well, this?"

Satisfied with her hair, Rachel pivoted and leaned against the dresser facing her. She pushed away from the surface as she pondered the question, slowly walking the few steps it took to enter the cheerleader's personal space again. Carefully she leaned upwards and pressed her lips slowly and softly to the blonde's. When she felt hands cup her cheeks she put her own hands to Quinn's hips and steadied herself. She allowed herself the enjoyment of realizing that despite the best of intentions, and her mother's impending arrival, Quinn still didn't stop the kiss. Taking pleasure at that, she forced herself to pull away after only a moment. She looked up and did a passable imitation of The Eyebrow. "All I can say is that I really, really *really* hope that Mr. Schue never pictured this. Because that would be very creepy."

Quinn took a deep breath and looked down and smirked a little. "Agreed."

Making her way back to the safety of the dresser the diva leaned against it. "Well now what do we do? Obviously, I can easily come up with a list of something that would satis…"

Quinn didn't let her get very far. "Hang on there. Easy Trigger. It's not until the week after next anyway. I think we have plenty of time. And if you think about it, we certainly put some serious effort into getting to know each other this weekend." She cocked her head and took the dry look she was receiving in stride. "I mean, come on. I had no idea Rachel Berry played poker at all, or that could be such a sore loser. Oh, hang on, that part I probably could have guessed at."

Rachel crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. But she held her tongue a moment before speaking. "Oh, so this has all been research then?"

The mock snarky look she received at first had made Quinn laugh. But after a second she could see the diva's look changed to something less cocky, more revealing, even as she tried to continue to play it off as banter.

Quinn grimaced slightly and fumbled. "No, that's not what I meant."

Silence.

"Hey Rachel."

"What?"

"You're worth knowing. In general. I'd…like to know more." She looked at her feet and back up again. "Maybe…you're around over the long weekend?"

"Quinn…Fabray. Hm, hey, so what IS your middle name anyway?"

The blonde shifted uncomfortably. "Why?"

Rachel shrugged. "Partially because I had the urge to use it just now, and I realized I didn't know that. Also, I just was curious. Research, you know." The brunette smiled, but had noted that a funny look had passed over the other girl's face. And then it was gone.

The blonde just shrugged back. "I don't have one."

"I don't believe you." Rachel tilted her head and watched the blonde roll her eyes.

"Well…I'm not telling."

The brunette half-smiled as she filed that away for future investigation. "Okay then, Quinn I'm Not Telling Fabray, are you asking me out on a date?"

The question brought a bark of a laugh up as she realized that actually, yes, she actually had. "I suppose I would be." The brunette grinned and Quinn hated to bring up the obvious. "But…technically, I'm not single. Yet. And neither are you."

The grin dropped quickly along with the direct gaze she had been getting. When the earnest brown eyes looked up again they had the vulnerable look again. Which was ironic considering Quinn had put more of her cards on the table, so to speak, in regards to what she planned to do about Sam. "True. I'm not. But…if we were?"

The blonde sighed, and allowed herself a small grin. "Then, I suppose. I mean yes, I guess I would be. "

"But we're not. Single yet, that is." The protective defensive arm crossing was back, as the brunette scowled without realizing it.

"No, we're not. Not yet, anyway. But, Rachel? If you aren't, single that is, then me asking you to spend time together, out of class, doesn't have to be a date. Look. We said we didn't want to go backward. And I meant that. We could just hang out as friends. You know. Play Scrabble."

_**Well look at you trying to be all mature and shit.  
Who knew?**_

Rachel nodded slowly as she digested the information. "That is true. I have to admit that as someone who hasn't had a lot of friends, I would be foolish to pass up the opportunity of having one, much less a potentially...really good one. An important one."

Quinn nodded with understanding. How could she not understand? She knew some of her own culpability in creating that dearth of friends for Rachel, and she also knew the other girl, amazingly, really didn't hold it against her now. She understood now a little bit of the privilege of knowing someone like Rachel. Of course none of that really helped the hollow feeling in her gut at the implication of the diva's words.

Rachel observed closely as the blonde nodded. Watched her take a breath, fidget, flit her eyes around the room, all the while working her porcelain features into passive neutrality. Rachel waited quietly for the carefully guarded eyes to look up again before she continued speaking. She smiled into those beautiful, hazel eyes. "And yet?"

"And yet?" Quinn echoed a little hoarsely, looking down at her feet and back again.

Rachel smiled and exhaled with a shrug. "And yet, I can't help but feel like that…despite common sense? That… friends, would only be second best here."

The focus sharpened in those eyes again, and Quinn struggled against it, but finally had to let her hopeful grin crack wide open. For once she truly appreciated the fact that Rachel Barbra Berry had never been inclined to settle for second best.

**#####**

After Rachel had helped carry several lightly loaded double-bagged groceries inside the cozy kitchen, she congratulated herself for not politely chastising the woman for not using the reusable bags most grocery stores offered. However, she made a mental note to mention it to Quinn when she had the chance. "Thanks so much for the tea…Judy. My dads are coffee enthusiasts, and I don't think I've gotten a chance to really enjoy good tea it as much as I would probably like. They might be heartbroken, but I have to say I prefer tea. " It felt odd to say that still instead of Mrs. Fabray, but she did appreciate the fact that she didn't have to wonder if it was Mrs. or Ms. Whatever her maiden name was.

Judy smiled genuinely. "Well thank you Rachel, for helping us unload the feast to be. As for the tea, I'm glad you enjoyed it. It is something Quinn and I have in common. Quinn's sister, Emma? She went off to college and became a coffee addict. Always complaining about not having single origin from some country or another. That boyfriend of hers turned her into a coffee snob!"

The petite girl nodded solemnly. "Oh yes. Dad goes on about single-origin Costa Rican or Sumatran. It's hard to get organic Sumatran though, so he had to let that one go."

Judy's eyebrows went up. "Oh my, organic too? Emma might have mentioned that too I forget. But Starbucks is about as fussy as the coffee gets around Lima."

Quinn nodded as she emptied the bags. "She keeps saying mom can get it at Whole Foods. Well the closest one is well over an hour and half away."

Rachel pressed her lips together and nodded. "I share her pain." Quinn arched her eyebrow and gave her a look. "Oh not because of coffee. It's just that I'd love to be able to shoe and eat organic. But it is true that the near two hour drive to Columbus would certainly leave a bigger carbon footprint than is warranted just for organic food on a regular basis."

Judy made a non-committal noise of agreement as she piled the fruit and vegetables she'd bought into colanders. She nodded and turned the water and proceeded to rinse them.

Quinn tilted her head and smiled a bit at Rachel's idealism. It wasn't carbon footprints her mother was worried about. She tried to be gentle when she quickly leaned in behind her with a low voice. "Rach, at the moment, I'm afraid the concern is more for the chunk of money it would take to fill the gas tank for a three hour round trip than our carbon footprint."

The heat rose and darkened Rachel's face and Quinn put a quick hand on her shoulder and whispered again in her ear as her mom stood very straight, giving the produce a somewhat vicious scrub. "Hey, it's okay. Last year, with dad, it was no big deal." She paused. "Granted dad would also not have given a shit about organics, but it wouldn't have been because of money." She squeezed one more time as she could see flush of embarrassment still coloring the diva. When Rachel finally looked at her, her doe eyes looked like she was about to tear up. Quinn shook her head. "Hey, hey. Seriously, don't worry about it. Uh, maybe drop the subject, but don't worry. She's fine." She nodded encouragingly.

Rachel gulped and nodded, still feeling like an insensitive dolt. When Judy finished scouring the produce, she wiped her hands off and turned with smile. "Well Rachel, I'll say again you are more than welcome to stop by and enjoy some food with us anytime. However, I have to warn you; I've never been a fabulous cook."

"Mom, you're fine. But Rachel, she's right. Anytime."

The brunette smiled graciously. "Oh, thank you. And I feel I can reciprocate…if...you find yourself available or, well, very bored? Or like classic movies? Or Musicals? Any of those will do."

Judy inclined her head, amused. "Thank you Rachel. Well, perhaps we will take you up on that some time. And if you really do love tea, My grandmother was a believer in the tradition of High Tea. I haven't done one in ages, not since Quinn's Communion in fact, but maybe after the holidays perhaps I will give it a whirl."

"Really? Oh, that would be lovely. I've never experienced one."

Quinn just watched this exchange in silence. It was very surreal to her. Rachel Berry in her kitchen. She had a new appreciation for the way her mother handled awkward situations now. Rachel's faux pas was handled in a way that seemed more gracious than deliberate obliviousness that had been the rule of the day when her dad was around.

Still. Rachel Berry in her kitchen was just…weird.

Quinn stood halfway in the mudroom as Rachel pulled on her coat and scarf again. "Hang on. Let me…help there." She instinctively reached out to hold the dark ponytail out of the way as the brunette ducked her head and dropped her scarf into place. Quinn smiled as she let the hair drop over it, rewarded with a thank you Berry smile style, as she twisted her scarf just so. "Okay Rachel. See you tomorrow. Thanks for…er…sharing your notes. I learned…a lot."

"It was my pleasure." There was mirth in her eyes as she said that and Quinn quirked her lips.

_**Oh yeah. You know she got that part right, don't you?**_

_**You can thank me anytime. I like gift cards.**_  
_**What do you mean you like gift..? oh never mind, just shut up.**_  
_**Best Buy… Bread Sticks. Ooh, I suggest Bread Sticks. I might even let you use it to take Berry on a date.**_  
_**One? You're way ahead of yourself. And two? I am clearly losing my fucking mind.**_

Then the teasing quality in her voice disappeared and Rachel fixed her with serious eyes. "Truly. Getting to know you? The 'you' behind The Great and Powerful Quinn? It was my pleasure."

Quinn dropped her gaze and looked up biting her lip with humor in her eyes. "So. Has the great and powerful Quinn been de-mythtified?"

Rachel actually guffawed as Quinn scrunched her face up at her own silliness. "Wow. I was going to say maybe a little bit. But after yet another made up word? Maybe more than a little bit."

"I am a woman of many…talents?."

"Yeah. I'm not going to comment on that. Your mother is in the next room."

"This is true, but for the record, I meant Scrabble. You're such a horndog, who knew?"

"Well…do you not remember what I said in the Chastity Club? About…how girls want it just as much as…"

Quinn's eyes got wide and Rachel smiled innocently as the blonde got flustered. Quinn pulled the door almost closed with only her head poking through and whispered at the smirking brunette."Okay, Berry. That's it. We agree; A great time was had by all. Let's do again sometimes shall we? Now. Time to go. Out with you, drive safely."

"_**She's a very kinky girl…the kind you don't take home to mother…"  
Shut up shut up! For the love of God, not that song. I* hate* that song. And now it's in my head! You suck!  
"She will never let your spirits down…" And by the way you do realize the irony of that rejoinder, yes?**_

She was rapping her head lightly on the glass panes in the door when her mother came back into the kitchen.

"Whatever are you doing Quinn?"

She paused and stood up.

_**Wondering how you're going to tell your mom you bumped uglies with yet another hot Jew?  
Bumped uglies? Just… no. They're not…it wasn't. We ...Just shut up.  
Aw…did I offend you? Or Rachel?  
What the hell? You're pushing me towards her, then you're making fun of me? Her? What do you want from me?  
Confused chica?  
Yes! Yes I am.  
Ah chica, I know. Don't you get it? I am confusing because clearly you yourself are confused. I'm just trying to help.**_

Quinn squeezed her eyes shut tight and shook her head quickly. "Nothing mom, just sooo tired. Lots to do this week and all."

"Are you sure? " Judy fixed her with a sharp look.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Just been a busy weekend and all. Tests, Thanksgiving coming up."

"Well, I'm glad you had a good time we both had a good time this weekend. A bit of a change of scenery for us both, right?"

_**You could call it that. It was quite view, wasn't it Q?  
You claim to be helping. Not helping. Please tell me you won't be doing it in bad rhymes now.  
I was thinking maybe haiku, would you like that Q?  
How is that I have a freakishly horny, smack talking, crappy poet living in my head?**_

"Quinn? Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah mom, we studied but stayed up way too late watching movies apparently. But yeah you're right. The change of scenery was nice." She tried to smile at her mom warmly, noticing now that she had that look like she was trying to hold her tongue. She waited for her mom to say whatever was on her mind, her clenched a bit in nervousness.

"I just wanted to say that Sam is a very nice boy. You know I think that, right?"

"Right…" Quinn's stomach got just bit tighter as she wondered where this was going.

Judy took a breath and shrugged. "I'm just saying that I'm glad you girls had a good time and got some studying done. She doesn't seem like…I'm sorry to use such an old-fashioned word but…trouble-maker. She's seems like a nice girl. I like her."

"Yeah, she is mom. I've gotten to know her and I like her too. It hasn't always been the case." She paused and chose not to elaborate. "Okay mom. I'm going to look over some notes. I'll get a sandwich later if I get hungry. Which I doubt. Early bed for me tonight."

"Okay then." Judy was a still a little concerned, but she couldn't really argue with her daughter getting in more studying and a good night's sleep. "Oh, I got some Clementines for you to with your for snacks and to have with lunch. They go bad quickly don't forget, so take some extras if you want to share with Rachel, or Brittany and Santana. Oh, speaking of those two, what have they been up to? I haven't seen them over here very much lately."

"They're just…busy I guess?" Quinn groaned inwardly at the thought of actually encountering Santana in the morning after ignoring her all weekend, especially after sending their poor hapless classmate Kenny to her house in the middle of their Santana's 'alone time' with Brittany. There would likely be hell to pay. She only barely kept herself from resuming banging her head on the glass of the door.

She looked to see her mother giving her a strange look. To forestall any more questions she straightened up. "Thanks for the fruit mom. I'll take a few extras if Rachel wants some. She did help unload after all."

Judy smiled and nodded and mostly covered her worried look. Her daughter looked overly tired.

She trudged up the stairs, fully aware she was too tired to study, to eat or probably even take a shower. No. The shower would be good. She'd sleep better. It was not even seven o'clock, and she wanted, strike that, _needed_ to be in bed. Now.

She undressed and clambered clumsily in when the water warmed up, this time not intent on punishing herself with a cold shower. She washed her hair, trying to keep her mind free of all thoughts except showering and bed. Compartmentalizing, after all, was her specialty. Except when it wasn't._**  
**_

_**Ahem. I'm ready with my my haiku for you, Q.  
No! No, no no. I'm tired. Leave me alone!  
No can do. Now. Here we go.  
I'm a'twitter with anticipation.  
**_

'_**Cheerleader on top  
Then comes Berrylicious girl  
Cheerleader goes down.'**_

_**Oh my God. I am at a loss for words. Seriously? Am I really losing my mind? Am I going to die? Are you a brain tumor? Because that was really lame when it happened Grey's Anatomy and I really don't want to go out that way. And really, what percentage of my brain are you taking up exactly that you have time to think up this shit? Because that was a horrible haiku.**_

_**Pfft. It was brilliant. You'll miss me when I'm gone.  
I won't. You'll be gone? Really? So… when will that be?  
When you've figured it all out of course.**_

She finished her shower in 'silence' thankfully. If she didn't have one test and a quiz the next day, not to mention Cheerios practice, she would have contemplated pulling the old 'orange juice and crackers, I'm too sick to go to school mom'. Just to get some damn sleep! As it was, she just was thankful she was pretty sure she'd absorbed enough Mary Shelley and Calculus to get her through the tests.

As she climbed exhausted into bed she debated. Should she check her phone for messages?

_**Wondering if Sam texted you? You know he did. But feel free to check on that while you check on Berry.  
…**_

She sat a moment before she grunted in defeat and annoyance got up to check her backpack for her phone. A phone that would normally be resting right by her bed she had to admit.

Sure enough.

_**Sam:**__ Studying hard?_

_**Santana:**__ Juno. WTF? Going all Run Silent Run Deep on me? Funny that. I know Sam is at home. So where you at?  
_

_**Brittany:**__ Where's Quinn? Like Where's Waldo, only it's you. And less fun. Query on Quinn?_

_**Kurt: **__You have a lovely home. Thank you for having us over. Finn was in quite a mood you know. Felt bad for Rachel._

Quinn shook her head and smiled, knowing he was totally fishing for information. Which meant Mercedes hadn't giver her up.

_**Mercedes:**__ All quiet on the Western front? You good?_

_**Santana:**__ A'iight. If I don't hear from you tonight, I'm either going to bust down your door or kick your ass._

Ah Santana, so nice of you to care, she thought to herself.

_**Mercedes: **__Fair warning? Kurt is on the scent. All on his own. He has a gift…_

Well she couldn't argue with that.

Nothing from Rachel. Her shoulders slumped

There was no hiding it, and she didn't need her lecherous, smartass possibly diseased subconscious to tell her the obvious.

She was disappointed. She sighed and stared at the phone, waiting for the inevitable comments from her mental peanut gallery.

_**You're waiting…because…what? Your precious texting fingers are broken?  
Okay. What the hell? Now you sound like Miranda Bailey?  
Hey. You brought up Grey's Anatomy. Just so happens I'm flexible.  
That's what she said?  
And contagious. So. Your fingers? What? Did you injure them last night getting your freak on?  
What? No I just…  
You just? You just what? You can't text her? Because…you're saving them for other activities on your own tonight?  
Oh…just shut up.  
Aw, you're blushing, aren't you? Text the girl. You know you want to. I might let you sleep…**_

At that, Quinn pulled up Rachel's number quicker than she thought possible. She didn't know what she was going to say yet.

She started and stopped a few times:

_Hey you. I wanted to say thanks.  
Hey you, I had fun. It was nice meeting your dads. They are great cooks.  
Hey you, you smell good. All over. Especially the crook of your neck…_

Her phone vibrated in her hand, startling her so much she dropped it. When she could see that it was Rachel's name that popped up, sleepy as she was, she smiled hugely, feeling elated and nervous.

_**Rachel:**_ _Hi there. Before it got too late tonight, I just wanted to say thank you again. And thank your mom for me also, for the tea, and the pizza yesterday._

She smiled still, even though it was a very neutral text. Then she couldn't help a feeling of mild disappointment, in herself, that she hadn't been the one to 'man up' as Puck would say, and text her first. Still, this could be remediated if she was quick.

_**Quinn:**_ _Hey you : ) actually I was just texting you when this came in. About to climb into bed. Thank your dads, and I'll pass yours thanks to mom._

She pressed 'send', and chewed her lip nervously before she tapped out another text.

_**Quinn:**_ _Also Rachel. I had fun. With you._

_**Atta Girl! Bonus points for using her name. Always a good move.  
I no longer believe in your 'bonus points' system.  
But you can trade them in for a Ginsu knife set or even a ShamWow!  
Only if I act now I suppose.  
Of course. If you do, I'll throw in the TimeLife Sounds of the 70s Super Set!**_

Thankfully, her phone buzzed again.

_**Rachel:**__ Great minds think alike and all that? Suffice to say the feeling is mutual. Please get some rest now. I know you must be as tired as I am. Sleep well Quinn._

She read the text again nodding her suddenly tired and heavy head again.

_**Quinn:**_ _Will do. __Sleep well, Rachel. See you tomorrow.  
_

Quinn knew she needed to answer the other texts or it would just be worse tomorrow. She grunted and got on with it.

_**Quinn:**__ Hey Sam. I'm dead tired, going to bed. Studying and hanging with mom, and I'm wiped out._

_**Quinn:**__ Hey B. The Query on Quinn alert can be canceled. I'm home, been studying. Going to bed. See you at practice. : )_

_**Quinn:**__ Hey S. Sorry I went AWOL. Tired. Studying. Same old bullshit._

_**Santana:**__ AWOL my ass. We'll talk. Soon._

_**Santana.**__ Oh. Also. Glad you're not dead. Yet._

_**Quinn:**__ Awww. S! I didn't know you cared. Be still my heart._

She decided to leave Kurt until tomorrow and gratefully put her phone to the side and turned out the light.

**#####**

Rachel looked up from her chair in the living room. Her dads hadn't been as intrusive as she'd feared since she'd been home, and she was grateful they weren't giving her the full court press, as her daddy would say.

"Quinn asked me to thank you all again for the meals and the hospitality."

Her dads looked at each other. Jonathan's eyebrows went up briefly but Curtis eyed him some more. She knew them well enough to know some silent exchange was going on. But they said nothing to indicate what it might be. Normally her curiosity would probably get the best of her. But tonight, as she assumed it probably had to do with Quinn, and their past, she was more than willing to let sleeping dogs lie.

Both her dads now smiled and nodded amiably at her. Curtis cupped his chin and looked at her again closely.

"You look knackered kiddo. If you want to turn in early, we'll DVR Amazing Race for you."

"Would you? That would be great. I really am tired."

Jonathan nodded. "Sure thing. Get some rest. You girls must have been up pretty late. Glad you had a good time. Really." Rachel noticed he looked at Curtis when he said this.

She smiled. She kissed them on the cheek, only barely resisting the urge to scurry upstairs as fast as she could move. As it was, she yawned casually and trudged upstairs.

Twenty minutes and a short shower later found her in bed, her head cradled on her hands behind her head, staring at the ceiling. Tired to the bone but restless also.

She'd sent Finn a short text congratulating him on studying so hard. And she meant it. But it was as if that was all she had in her at the moment for Finn.

And now? Well now she was free to ponder the weekend's events. At least as long as she could keep her eyes open.

She had to admit that many of the things flashing in her head made her flush from the thrill now once-removed. But also, despite herself, a small sense of mortification was rattling around in there as well. If one could actually be mortified on a small scale.

She almost couldn't quite believe what had happened. What she had done, with Quinn. What Quinn had done to her. She ran her hands down the lines of her body, lingering in some places, still feeling soreness here and there. No, it hadn't been some fever dream she was going to wake up from.

She had, in fact, been buck naked in this bed, with Quinn Fabray, less than twenty four hours ago. Doing things. Things she liked. And… there was the mortification again. She found she had covered her face with her hands again. She chastised herself. Sex and her body were not something to be ashamed of. Her informed upbringing had made sure of that, and she was thankful for that.

Slowly, she realized it wasn't so much shame, as maybe shock? Shock at her own carnal reactions. Reactions she didn't even know she was capable of. Feeling better with the label of shock rather than shame, she looked to her left, at the pillow there. The pillow Quinn had fallen asleep on. Asleep, naked, her own worn out naked body curled against her chest. Shock, shame or whatever it was, she couldn't help the slow grin that split her face now as she gave herself permission to remember that part. She reached over for the pillow. Feeling foolish, as if she were some RomCom protagonist, she tentatively smelled the pillow. And of course she couldn't contain the rush of pleasure when it turned out that yes; the scent she detected there was definitely from Quinn's shampoo.

She rolled slowly onto her side gripping the pillow to her chest, happy to allow her mind to start first with the less carnal memories of the weekend. She wanted to remember everything, and vowed to write it all down in her journal tomorrow.

Content with her plan, she let her eyes drift closed as she started at the beginning.

**#####**

As it turned out, when her breathing deepened and her muscles finally went slack, and a small frown played on her lips, she had barely gotten through cataloging her time walking Po and talking to Esther. She drifted off as she was pictured driving up to Quinn's house for the first time.

**#####**

**Thank you all for continuing to read (assuming you didn't give up on me, and then you're probably not reading this, huh?) Reviews always cheer me up immensely, and they are always appreciated even if brief! Anyway. I was in dire need of having fun today, so I might have gone overboard having fun with Quinn's inner voice this time… *shrug* I think I'm almost as exhausted as our heroines, and I didn't have nearly as much fun getting this way. I might even be starting to hear the voice of whippets giving me snarky advice. Hm, no it's snarky. Must be one of the cats. I'll let you know.**

**So yeah. I'm sorry it takes me longer to get out chapters these days, really! I still don't have my notes from old laptop so looking up older details that I need takes a lot longer than it used to! Gah. Oh well. This is also just about the first day I've done no work at all I've had in a couple of weeks except for Memorial Day weekend. So just for you guys ;) I spent most of it watching random non-distracting sports (US got their butt handed to them by Spain, no surprise there..) and writing this, so hope you all enjoy it and that it is half decent. I will be getting to Sam next…**

**Okay. Canucks just beat Boston. Now I'm unhappy. Burrows who BIT someone's finger in the opening game should have been serving at least a one game ban, and should not have been IN this game. He scored 2 goals and had an assist. (or the other way around...I'm tired.) Not cool. Not cool.  
**


	41. Chapter 41

**Pairing: **_Quinn/Rachel_  
**Spoilers: **Anything up to…Silly Love Songs I think.  
**Rated:** R for language

**A/N: Well…still Unbeta'd. I'll catch the errors later in the evening when the magically become obvious to me.**

**A/N Thank you all again for your reviews. All of you, thanks! They make my day right about now. And hey! I think I'm almost back on a roll again here! I have big plans for them soon… **

**#####**

'_Sleeping is giving in, no matter what the time is.  
Sleeping is giving in, so lift those heavy eyelids'_

The pounding of the music from her alarm jolted Rachel from a restful, if disappointingly dreamless, sleep. She'd left her alarm set to play music having forgotten to switch it over to radio for NPR Morning Edition she usually woke to.

Disoriented, she reached out blindly to shut it off, and looked bleary-eyed at the elliptical machine. It took only a few seconds to dismiss the guilt that had descended on her at the thought of skipping her workout.

It just wasn't going to happen today. Really.

Except that it did.

_**Come on…it'll wake you up and get you going, you heard the song. Sleeping in is giving in,**_ her subconscious prodded.

She grumbled but got up.

So forty-five minutes later found her exercised, showered, and back to her uber-alert self. She congratulated herself on staying focused. Not letting her mind wander anywhere but school and studies. Yet.

**#####**

Jonathan was rooting around in the refrigerator when he noticed his daughter. "Ah, there she is. Weren't sure you were going to get up on time today sweetheart. You had…an unusually busy weekend, even for you."

His husband nodded his agreement and smiled. Then he narrowed his eyes at her. "You DID accomplish enough studying, didn't you?"

She rolled her eyes dramatically. "Yes, Daddy. Please. When have you ever known me to ignore my studies. Sheesh."

The shorter man balanced the containers he'd scrounged as he scuffed the door shut, laying them out on the counter. "That's our girl."

Curtis folded his arms and fixed them both with a look. He was pretty sure Rachel and her guest had been up until all hours. He didn't know what to make of the spark in his daughter's eyes around the angelic, complicated blond.

All he knew is that they'd both looked pretty wrecked Sunday morning. Whether or not they had completely put to bed their old rivalry was anybody's guess, but it certainly seemed that way, and they certainly seemed chummy enough now, if mildly awkward. Very chummy. Not that there was anything wrong with that, right?

He pulled away from his musings, and let himself smile a little, but spoke firmly. "Well as much time as you all spent on it, I would hope you'd ace whatever you two were working on."

His daughter flashed him a bright smile. A suspiciously bright one now that he thought it. "Daddy, I repeat. When have you ever known me to ignore my studies? That's right. Never."

She'd said it with confidence, or maybe with a little bit of bravado perhaps. She wasn't truly worried about her tests. Not really. However, it certainly wouldn't look good if she suddenly turned up a B instead of an A right after she spent a good chunk of time 'studying' with Quinn Fabray. She knew her dads liked the Quinn they had met, the one who had spoke to them in the kitchen. But she knew even if they'd given a preliminary blessing, they'd still certainly be keeping an eye out for the Quinn that they hadn't met. The one they had heard far too much about. The one she hoped wasn't lurking, waiting to re-emerge.

Jonathan smiled and handed her the neatly packed cloth lunch bag he'd been compiling. "I'm sure she will honey. But I'll say it anyway. Good luck on your tests today sweetheart, whatever they are. Here you go. One alfalfa sprout, cucumber and avocado sandwich."

She smiled and took it from him. "Thanks dad." She then looked pointedly at her daddy. "My first test will be covering Mary Shelley's _Frankenstein_. Frankly, I feel certain I can expound, ad nauseum, on the concept of monstrosity and 'the Other.' As for Spanish? De nada. Por supuesto."

Curtis nodded, and gave a rueful smile, obviously not particularly happy his daughter had such direct personal experience those concepts. He downed his coffee and changed the subject deftly. "Is Stretch going to ace his too? "

She pulled on her coat and scarf before answering. "I think he'll do fine. He'd do well enough without me anyway. His study habits have improved vastly."

Curtis' eyebrows shot up, but he quickly composed his face. "Well, good for him. I'm sure you helped him get there."

She pressed her lips together nodded absent-mindedly. The men glanced at each other, then turned to watch her, surprised she didn't seize on the compliment. Or, if not the compliment, at the opportunity to talk about her boyfriend. Instead she gave both her dads a dazzling smile, kissed them both on the cheek and headed out the garage door.

Curtis dropped his head and looked at his husband over his reading glasses. "Mmmhmmm. Something is up, didn't I tell you?"

Jonathan looked thoughtful. "You did. Now if you could just divine what that might be, that would be great."

The bigger man grunted. "What am I? A magic 8 Ball?"

His husband grinned back. "Signs point to yes."

"You're a dork," Curtis chuckled.

"Occasionally. But you love me," Jonathan countered.

"It is decidedly so," Curtis agreed.

**#####**

_It was not your fault but mine,  
and it was your heart on the line.  
I really fucked it up this time._

Music flared to very loud life near her head and Quinn shot her arm out to turn it down, grunting. Stupid fucking morning practice.

_**Rise and shine, mi hermana, rise and shine!  
Gah. Already? Hey! Where did Bailey go?  
She's sleeping in of course.  
Maybe you should too. I'll rise, but I refuse to shine.  
Well aren't you feisty for a Monday?  
Eat me.  
Tu Madre, little girl. You'd be too chicken shit to say that to Bailey.  
She's not here.  
Get on with it. Get up. I hate that crap song. Your sister has no taste. Where's the Motown?  
I like this too. Quit whining. Sucks to be…nevermind.**_

Then, to make a point, even if it was to herself, she luxuriated in a tendon popping stretch before clambering out of bed and starting her day.

She turned the volume up on the music.

** #####**

The heater had barely warmed up the car when Quinn whipped into the parking lot. It was just starting to think about turning into grey dawn. She hated Daylight Savings Time. She squinted, scanning for any sign of Santana, hoping she'd make it to the Cheerios locker room to change without encountering her fractious second in command.

She thought she was home free until she reached her spot. The Latina was leaning against her car, probably freezing her ass off, but trying to look as casual as possible.

Taking a deep breath and a convulsive grip on her steering wheel, she pulled into her own spot. She tried not to let the smirk she detected on the girl's face even in the dim watery light get to her.

Plastering on her best above-it-all bored look, she gathered her things and hauled herself out of the car with some difficulty. Her arms were sore still and her quads and hamstrings were still stiff. She still couldn't keep herself from flushing if she thought about that for too long so she ignored it.

She frowned hard, in hopes of keeping herself from wincing and revealing her discomfort. Santana was even better than she was at detecting and exploiting weakness.

Santana eyed her from head to toe and made a 'tsk tsk' sound. "Residual baby-weight still making it tough to get around, Tubbers?"

Slamming her door shut, she gave the other girl a fuck you smile. "And Happy Monday to you too, S. You know, come to think of it, I did eat more than usual this weekend. Of course I'm sure you'll notice. You know. Since I'm at the top of the pyramid and all."

She pinned her best friend with a pointed look, then pivoted towards the gym.

Santana squinted her eyes and grimaced a smile right back as she pushed herself off the car to follow behind. "Touchy, touchy this morning Q? Aww. Did someone not get their beauty rest?" She raised an eyebrow.

Quinn let her head drop back in frustration. She wanted to let the exasperation out in a growl but she didn't. It never paid to let Santana know she was getting to you. She straightened her shoulders and kept walking. "Whatever. So where's your bestie with benefits this morning? Did you all have fun 'studying' on Saturday night?"

Quinn felt a very sharp poke to her shoulder as she walked briskly. "Oh yeah Q. Thanks for that. Kenny was a laugh riot. Beaver dammed in my own fucking house! What the hell Q? Yeah, you'll pay for that, mi amiga. Eventually. Anyway, as for B, she's already here. Sent her inside where it's warm of course. Can't have my Britts catching cold, can I?"

Her tough as nails friend's regard for Brittany always served as a reminder that Santana was, in fact, human.

Quinn kept walking with purpose, hoping to restrict her time alone with the other girl as much as possible today. Also, it was damn cold out this early in the morning. She stopped outside the doors to the gym. "Okay, sorry about Kenny. Sorry I went silent. So are we done here? We need to move. I'm not in the mood for wind sprints, are you?"

"Point taken. So let's move heifer. But just so's you know? We're not done with this yet. "

"Whatever." She swung open the heavy door, wincing slightly.

Santana noticed. "Don't whatever me, oh bestie with no benefits, and might I add you are missing out, I'll drop your well-fed weak ass, accidentally on purpose. Believe it."

"Whatever. Nothing to see here. Let's go."

** #####**

Practice sucked. Monumentally. Her timing was completely off. It didn't help that Santana smirked at her the entire time. Brittany kept looking between the two of them, trying to figure out what was going. Her face alternated between worried and confused.

The last straw was when she missed her footing on a lift, scraped down the ample thigh of one of the Jessicas, knocking over the left base of the pyramid. When her slip created a domino effect, and subsequently one of the Ashleys elbowed Santana in the jaw, a mumbled string of heretofore unknown and colorful sounding bilingual curses filled the gym.

Quinn had found herself face down on the gym floor after the heap settled. She finished taking stock of her extremities, glad there was only a twinge in her shoulder as she pushed up from the floor. When she turned around, ready to dare anyone to make a peep, Santana was cradling her jaw. She was also staring at her with an odd tilt to her head and a weird expression on her face. And then she smiled, and it was not a pleasant smile.

That can't be good, she thought.

_**Really Captain Obvious?  
I'm fucked, aren't I?  
I'll be in the showers. You're done here.**_

Coach whipped out her bullhorn and called practice fifteen minutes earlier than usual. "Alright. That's it. This insipid excuse for a practice has sucked all the precious time from my life it is going to. Sixty minutes I won't get back. Ever! Sixty minutes I could have been at home watching yesterdays' Kathie Lee and Hoda. We're done here. Hit the showers. Tomorrow will be twice as fun, I promise you."

There was a collective groan from the tired Cheerios. Quinn risked a glance at Santana, who she saw had made a bee line to Brittany with an excited look on her face. Whatever was on her mind, she was about to froth at the mouth over it.

_**Yeah. You're fucked Q.  
So very, very fucked.  
Yep. Like a teenage cheerleader chugging wine coolers on a 'fat day'  
Nice. Way to be supportive. Asshole.**_

Quinn moved towards them, calm smile painted on.

The squeal of feedback from the bullhorn brought her up quick and she cringed. "Q! S! You two, go rinse your elephantine hides down and be in my office in fifteen. I said move!"

Santana's head whipped around at that, and Quinn got a hard look from her friend.

"Way to go Q", she hissed. "Best hope she doesn't blame this shit on me. I know where my head's at. Sure as hell can't be said for you."

Brittany scoffed at that. "Her heads where it's always at S. On top of her head. Duh."

Santana opened her mouth and shut it once before she spoke. She did that a lot with Brittany. "Britt, I meant her mind. Her mind wasn't on what she was doing. And as a result, I got clocked. Not cool."

Brittany made a sad face for a moment. And then it cleared up and became sunny again. "Oh. Well that's easy too. I bet she's thinking about ladies lips."

Quinn's mouth screwed and quirked to the side. "Uh, B. I'm just tired, and I was not thinking about Sam."

The other blond looked at her quizzically. "Of course not."

Quinn blinked. Santana's eyes narrowed. She'd known Brittany since they were six. And she knew that a lot of what came out Brittany's mouth was very accurate, provided you knew how to interpret it. She opened her mouth to speak, but Quinn grabbed her arm and pulled her away.

"Come on. Let's get showered. I don't want to piss Coach off any more than she is."

Santana allowed herself to be pulled along before she jerked her arm free and took charge. "Alright people. Out of our way. Now."

The Cheerios parted for them, and respectfully waited their turn for prime spots in the showers. They knew better than to go in before the top dogs were finished.

** #####**

The steam of the shower felt good for all of the two minutes she got to enjoy it. She'd washed her face and turned around to rinse the conditioner from her hair quickly, finding Santana staring at her. Startled, she played it off. It wasn't like they hadn't seen each other naked a hundred times. And sometimes she admitted it could be inordinately fun to taunt her friend. Every now and again. Now seemed like a good time for some reason. She cracked an eye and smugly quipped her comment. "Like what you see San? You know you're going to make Britts jealous, pining after me like that right in front of her. And that would make her sad."

Then she cracked a half grin and turned back towards to face the water.

The dismissive scoff followed by coughing noises that Santana emitted when she accidentally snorted water caused her self-satisfied grin to grow, and even comforted her a little bit. She had some control back.

It was no secret to her, or Brittany for that matter, that Santana would totally jump her bones, just once, if she could. After all, a drunk Santana was a flirty, talkative Santana. Obviously she knew Santana wasn't half in love with her, like she was but wouldn't admit with Brittany. However, Santana found her attractive and she knew it. For a long time, Santana would joke about it, just to make Quinn squirm. But every now and again, lately, Quinn used it to her own advantage.

Now, she leaned backwards to catch Brittany's eye and winked at her. The perenially upbeat blond just smiled, shook her head and winked back, clearly taking no offense. Such was the beauty of Brittany.

Santana's noises had subsided as she caught her breath, and now glared at Quinn, soapy eyed, before turning to Brittany.

"Britts, you know she's full of it. Right? Right?"

The blonde soaped her legs carefully and laughed. "No she's not. And that's okay, S. I know how you are." She stood up. "And Q? She's not checking out your merchandise. Or not just. Promise. She's just wondering where you got your sexytimes scratches."

There was a very loud thud and spluttering sounds. Brittany looked over at Quinn, worry evident in her eyes, as she watched the girl do away with whatever modicum of modesty that usually prevailed in their shared showers. She was now turned full frontal, keeping her back to the shower head. And she was crimson from her head to her toes.

Santana could not have looked more smug if her life depended on it as she eyed her friend and rival's embarrassment. And she quite obviously enjoyed the extra long look at the cheerleader's body as a bonus. Nope. No baby weight there anymore, that was for sure. She chuckled, and looked at Brittany and grinned.

Brittany shrugged as she turned off the water and grabbed her towel. "Q, I don't know why they always say this, but I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to drop the soap in the shower. I've never understood that. But I am always very careful in showers. Even at home."

More sputtering erupted as Quinn quickly rinsed herself with as much dignity as possible, ignoring the soap. She squeaked her response. "Thanks B. I'll be careful."

Santana's Cheshire Cat grin grew as she let the water run through her hair and chuckled. "Yes, thank you B. And don't you worry, B. I'll keep an eye on her. All day."

The taller blond smiled brightly. "Good idea S. Though I hope you mean more like after she gets her clothes on. I mean, Quinn has a rockin' body, but really, it's rude to stare, isn't it?"

Busted, she took one more glance at Quinn. "You're right it is B. By the way?"

"Yes, Santana?"

"You rock. Gold star for you." Her anticipatory grin was bordering on maniacal at this point. She so had Quinn where she wanted her.

"I do, don't I? I'm awesome."

Santana smiled hugely at her. "Yes, you do, and yes you are. I'll find a place for that Gold Star later, okay?"

The blond toweled herself and smiled. She looked thoughtful and opened her towel and looked down. "Cool. I think I know where I want you to put that one." She closed the towel and looked over at Quinn who was still recovering. "Quinn? Please promise you'll be extra careful today, okay? I won't tell Coach you dropped the soap, I swear."

Quinn's throat felt strangled, so she just nodded and tried to smile.

Brittany smiled and bobbed on out of the showers to change, letting an underclassman take her place.

**#####**

Santana finished quickly, but Quinn took her sweet time, making sure they barely made it to Sue's office in time for their complete reaming out.

Ten minutes of harrowing grade A Quality Sue Time later, they were summarily booted out of her office. Students were just starting to arrive in the parking lot.

Quinn tried to escape to her locker quickly and alone, but the Latina matched her stride for stride, and grabbed her arm firmly, steering her outside to a walkway between buildings. "Yeah, I don't think so Q."

_**Here we go.  
Ya think?**_

Santana pulled her along, her face a study of pretend benevolence. "So. Q. I have to say, this is a puzzle, and I'm intrigued. One tired, sore, cranky, not to mention CLUMSY Quinn…" The blond cheerleader spared her half a sideways glance as she was dragged along. When they reached a private area, she pulled on her elbow, pulling them both up short. Quinn whirled to face her, staring stonily trying to look bored. Santana crossed her arms, like she was trying to figure out how to go about this.

She tapped her fingers to her chin for a moment before speaking. "Okay. Q. Hm, let me free form cipher here for a bit if you don't mind."

Quinn held her bored look, which Santana ignored.

"So…cranky Q, plus the fact that you were AWOL all weekend, plus…I heard it through the grapevine that Finntopia world is not such a happy little world anymore. Multiply that by the fact that Sam had the cajones to ask me what was going on with you because you weren't with him...hm, divide all that by the fact that even I don't know what you did all weekend, other than not spend it with Sam? Toss in the sexytime scratches? And well? I think the square root of all that equals…Q the Ice Queen thawed out enough for someone to get in her pants."

Quinn's stomach instantly felt like she'd chugged a pint of acid. She ignored it as she could. "S? Seriously? Are you high? Do you ***really*** think I slept with…I don't know? So just who is it you think I slept with exactly?"

Santana's proud smirk didn't diminish at all. "Sam was stag Saturday night, so it wasn't him. But I believe Finneptitude was free most of the evening…although having been there and done that, I could have told you to spare yourself the forty-five seconds of your life you'll never get back."

Jaw clenched, Quinn shook her head slightly, mad, but scared too. She scrapped back, happy to least having the truth on her side as far as what Santana was getting at. The thought of sleeping with Finn hadn't crossed her mind in a long time. Sleeping with Puck had been stupid. She could use that.

"Oh for fucks' sake. Yes, S. You're right. I decided that living one fucking Lifetime movie in my high school career wasn't enough. Let's go for two, why not? Right? You are crazy. And way off base. Do you really think I'm that stupid S?" She narrowed her eyes and sprinkled in some more truth. "Finn Hudson? So not on my radar anymore."

Santana nodded slowly. "Okay, I'll buy that. You're not stupid. And like I said. Forty five seconds I'll never have back." She bobbed her head back and forth, weighing all her information. She narrowed her eyes in thought. "But then again? You never wanted him for that anyway, did you? And as far as I knew, Boy Scout Sam was doing it for you in your whole 'you scratch my back and I'll scratch yours' regain popularity scheme. I mean, hey, he's not my type, natch, but he fits your Mister Popular Enough bill. So. What'd Lady Lips do to piss you off?"

Quinn could feel her face coloring. Never a good sign. If she lost her ice edge, and lost her cool? It would go badly. "Nothing! I'm not pissed off at Sam! Sam's fine. Sam's good. Just drop it." Quinn bit her lip as she remembered the scratches on her back again. And flushed deeper.

Santana tapped her chin thoughtfully, then came to a sudden stop. "This is quite the enigma Q. But I think I have it."

Quinn tried to make herself walk away, but she found herself stuck to the floor paralyzed, needing to hear what Santana was going to say next. The wry grin her second in command was sporting was not a good sign. Her stomach attempted to fold in on itself. Santana clearly thought she was on to something.

"So. Here's how S sees it. You, mon Capitan, as I have reason to know, have a mighty refined palate for revenge. Not as refined as myself of course, but it is more discerning than most. So I think you might have had a go at Finnocuous. Not for the fun of it of course, even if there was fun to be had. Which, **believe **me there is not. But I digress."

She raised her eyebrow appraisingly, watching for reaction as she continued. "I **do** think you'd do him, just to get to Berry." She narrowed her eyes and watched Quinn's face change and pressed her advantage, smiling benevolently again and nodding sagely. "Ah, I have taught you well, Grasshopper. Revenge IS a dish best served cold after all. Just please for the love of Juno, please tell me you were smart about it this time."

Quinn was feeling sick on the one hand, but more comfortable now, since Santana was so far off base.

She inhaled and steadied herseld. Because as convenient as it might be in some ways, at this moment, she just couldn't let the rumor get started that she'd slept with Finn. That would hurt Rachel too much, in so many ways. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't tempted, just for a few seconds. To save everything she'd regained.

But now? She just couldn't hurt Rachel. Not again. She bit hard on the inside of her lip before she shook her head and tried to summon her acting skills. She chuckled derisively.

"Santana, that is asinine, not to mention absurd. I have no other word for it. I didn't even like…it… with Puck. Why would I do something so self-punitive just to hurt Ra—Rachel, or anyone." She stopped. That was more than she'd wanted to say. She walked a few paces away, knowing Santana would follow. She turned back. "That is **your** crazy ass 'take no prisoners burn down your own house' approach. Not mine," she paused and glared, "and you know it."

The way Santana swayed on her hips side to side and cupped her chin worried Quinn. It meant she was up to something. Pondering. Or plotting. They'd hatched too many plots together along with Brittany for her not recognize it.

"Okay. Okay. Let's run this problem through the old abacus again then, shall we? Once more with feeling as Mr. Schue, or hm. …Berry, excuse me, ***Rachel*** would say." Santana smirked as she said it.

Quinn couldn't make herself walk away, even though she knew it was the smart thing to do. She stood bolted in place, cringing mentally.

She knew Santana could be a cold-hearted, calculating bitch, but she also knew she was far smarter than she ever let on. She toned it down all the time, especially around Brittany. Another glimmer of humanity underneath the bitch exterior that most never knew. But now Santana was turning her not inconsiderable intellect to working out what was going on. And that was not good.

_**Well Q, This is a toughy. Let's see.  
Awesome. Now? Really?  
Yes now.  
Great.  
So. If the Rachel train leaves the station at 2:30 a.m. going 85 miles per hour on a Saturday night, and the Quinn train leaves the station shortly after that, but going 90 miles per hour? Who came first?  
Oh my god. So not helping. Can't you help me combat…well YOU! Gah! Get me Miranda.  
Sorry. She's in the On Call room.**_

She growled mentally at her inner Santana, and addressed the flesh and blood one looking oh-so snarky right in front of her. "Look. There's nothing to figure out. So I ran an extra mile or two this weekend. How else do you think I got the baby weight off? It made me sore, okay? I didn't sneak over to Finn's house and jump his pathetic bones in a pathetic bid to…I don't even know what. Quit worrying about it. It's making you look constipated."

She started moving again hoping Santana would just drop it.

It was a sad, mad hope, but it was worth a try and it was all she had. Behind her, she heard a hissing sound from the girl, and turned around in time to see her slap her hand to her forehead.

"No way. No fucking way Q. I knew I forgot to plug in one part of the equation. Did I forget to tell you Sam mentioned he thought you went to Berry's house to have dinner? And that you didn't text him until Sunday? I guess I did. Didn't think much of it, I had my own partay going on, or I did until Skinny Kenny the twat swatter showed up that is."

She glared again before she continued. "And you know what? Yeah, I thought it was funny, and yeah I was just gonna bust on you, just it a little bit, sure. Because well, it's Berry, right? No real biggie. She's a dwarf and all, but she's our dwarf now, right? But now? Q?"

Quinn blanched involuntarily, probably confirming all suspicions.

Santana's voice dropped to a low, amazed whisper as she contemplated the ludicrous notion she'd stumbled upon. "Holy shit Q. Wow. You know everyone thinks you're all mysterious and shit. But me? I know you, better than you even know yourself." She looked up, eyes round with disbelief. "But Q….oh my fucking God. Really? You totally tapped that, didn't you?"

Quinn swallowed, hoping the increasingly insistent urge to hurl would go away.

Santana's jaw hung open for a few seconds. When she finally closed it and shook her head, she didn't know where to start. She pulled the paralyzed Quinn to the side, up against the cold cement of the building near the side exit from the gym, out of the way even more.

She leaned in close. "Listen Q. You know I can always smell weakness. And well, sex too. And you, mon frère? You reek of both. I should have seen it earlier. Wow."

Quinn tried to keep her face straight. She schooled her features into a blank look, but her hands were clenched. She tried denial.

"Santana, you don't what you're talking—"

Santana's hands reached down and clasped her clenched ones in her smaller, but strong hands. She spoke low and earnestly now, with only a little bit of mocking in her tone. "Please. Q. Don't bother denying it. Wow Q. I mean, B always said you played for our— er Kurt's team. But Berry? Really? Did not see that coming."

Quinn let her head drop back and she squeezed her eye shut. Don't cry, she warned herself. This was a nightmare.

She felt the light tap of a gentle slap to her cheek and she opened them.

Santana was shaking her head, clearly still having trouble believing her ridiculous sounding theory had turned out to be true. She shrugged as she pulled away from her a bit, giving the distraught blond some space. She whistled low and long, then smiled cockily up at her with what appeared to be a tiny bit of respect.

"Well Q, I gotta hand it to you. Preternaturally talkative dwarf that Berry is and all? It's not like she doesn't have some good days. I mean, if I could just put her on mute, I'd lay her out…" She stopped when Quinn gave her a disbelieving cock-eyed look. She shrugged. "What Q? She's always going on about her superior breath control. I say put it to good use, right?"

Now it was Quinn's turn to let her jaw drop for a moment. Then she steeled up. This was not how things worked. Quinn Fabray didn't get cornered and schooled by Santana. It was the other way around.

She was about to do her best to turn the tables when she heard the door from the building burst open around the corner. She jumped and gulped, but was relieved to see it was Brittany that came cantering around the corner. The continually smiling blond spotted them and waved as she called to Santana "Hey number one!" Santana indulged her and called back with a smile. "Hey number two!"

The taller blond smiled brightly at the two of them. "Hi Q. So did Sue find out that you dropped the soap?"

Quinn pressed her lips in a fond smile and shook her head 'no.'

As Brittany linked arms with Santana, she smiled at Quinn again. "Oh good. So did you have a good weekend? S said she was going to send you a message? Did you get it? Was it a message in a bottle? Because The Police make those sound so cool. We probably would have missed you being around, but we were busy having se—"

Santana pressed her lips together and spoke low, but emphatically. "Britts! I've told you! At school…ixnay on the sex talk, right? Oh…wait hang on." She looked at Quinn and smiled her best cat that ate the canary smile. "Never mind B. What the hey now, right Q? You've joined the Sweet Lady Kisses club, haven't you Q?"

Her smirk puzzled Brittany, but more importantly, it infuriated her intended target. Quinn narrowed her eyes, full on defensive now and hating it.

"Santana, you're losing it. And you know what? You know jack shit about what you're talking about." She was this close to freaking out and she went into HBIC mode.

She hadn't gotten this far in her thoughts, not really. She'd gotten only as far as knowing she needed to cut Sam loose. She didn't know quite what to do about Rachel. She didn't have complete control over it, and it was was freaking her the hell out.

The very fact that this time, she realized she might really actually want someone, really want them, and she couldn't control it, or them. It had her stymied. And scared.

Her normal modus operandi, subtle manipulation and fear? She couldn't use that on Rachel. If that was even how things were ever going to go. If that is what she even wanted. What would that even mean?

Was there some ridiculous reason she had done what she'd done with Rachel? She'd screwed Finn over with Puck. For what? A fat day? For nothing. And it had cost her everything.

And now? She'd screwed Sam over by…being with Rachel. But she'd be lying to herself if she tried to say it was for 'nothing.' But what was 'it?' Whatever 'it' was, it could still cost her everything she had been trying to recoup.

She looked up and both girls were looking at her, Brittany with concern. Santana with a half smile and what sometimes passed for concern; lack of disdain.

"I'm not—I don't know. Look. I didn't join any damn club." She spoke petulantly and then let her shoulders slump.

Brittany looked at Santana. "What's going on S. Did you make Q sad? Don't do that. She just got happyish-er."

Santana's face softened when she looked at Brittany. Then she looked at her friend and captain again took a deep breath, her features still soft. "Hey. Q. It's cool. No biggie if you want to get your freak on with Berry. What do I care? I'm an all options on the table kinda gal, you know that. No labels, right?"

Quinn looked up, gauging the truth, looking for ulterior motives. Finding none, she let her whole body fall against the chilled hardness of the building and she closed her eyes in silent admission. She heard a chuckle from the Latina now. Of course.

"But geez Q. Berry? Really? Does she even shut up long enough to—"

Quinn's eyes flared open and she leveled them at her friend. "Santana, please. Seriously. I am not going to discuss…it…with you."

Santana laughed a little and reached to ruffle her friend's hair. Quinn ducked and grabbed her wrist and she just laughed some more.

"Ah, so you admit it? I love it! But damn! I wanted to torture you some more. You're sucking the fun out of it. Speaking of sucking—"

Quinn groaned. "Santana. Please…"

Brittany laughed softly but chided her friend. "Come on S, remember how you were? I do. So give Q a break. For me?" She looked over at Quinn, who still looked completely mortified. "It's no big deal. It's just different right? Right S?" She bumped her shoulders with Santana who rolled her eyes and nodded. "Sweet lady kisses and what not? Really?" She grinned and looked down at her feet before making a little hop.

"It's just a jump to the left," she laughed as she shimmied her hips and sang softly.

Santana managed to only smirk with half as much mockery as she could have. She followed Brittany's lead, and stepped to the side, as she arched her eyebrow and sang too. "And a step to the riiight."

Quinn rolled her eyes as she watched her friends' antics.

"Put your hands on hips…" sang the blond again as she put her hands on her hips. Next Santana joined in again and they both sang, a little louder.

"And pull your knees in tiiiight…"

Quinn felt her mouth tug towards a smile, just a little, before Santana teased her some more.

"Come on Q, altogether now….or not? It's the pelvic thruust, the really drives you..." She stopped as Quinn clapped her hand over her eyes. "What? No pelvic thrust? No? Okay. Maybe not. Or maybe? Who knows what Berry is into, right?" Brittany collapsed with her into giggles at Quinn's face.

After Santana finally stopped laughing, her eyes gleamed wickedly as Quinn crossed her arms tightly shaking her head at them. "So Q. Speaking of tight? How tight was Ber—umph! Umph!"

Any further speech was stopped by Quinn's hand, clamped firmly over her mouth. She was about to growl and bite it, but she saw how distraught her friend looked. That, coupled with Brittany's hand on her shoulder, well she didn't bite down. Yet. For the moment she cocked an eyebrow, waiting for Quinn to say something.

"S. For the love of God. Please. No more. I can't take that right now. We're going to be late. Can we…talk about this later? Or never? How about never? I'm good with never. Shit! Ouch!"

Quinn jerked her hand back when she felt a none too gentle bite. She shook it to take the sting away, glaring at the shorter girl, who just smirked at her.

Rolling her eyes, Quinn looked to the other blond, earnest in her appeal. "Britts? Can you please, please, pretty please with sugar on top, NOT repeat anything of this? To ANYone? Not Artie. Not Kurt. Not Mercedes. Not even Lord Tubbington. Okay?"

The bouncing blond nodded seriously. "My lips are sealed."

Santana looked at Quinn and cocked a saucy eyebrow. "Welcome to the club. And speaking of lips…"

_**Yeah, not even I am going to touch that one.  
Thank God.**_

Quinn put her hands to her ears. "Shut it! I can't hear you, I can't hear you!"

"We meet every third Wednesday. Locations vary. I'll show you the secret handshake later..."

"Still can't hear you."

"Come on Q, don't we have a test? Can't wait to see Berry looks like, all deflowered and shit..Ouch, that one hurt. That's gonna cost you Q. Ow! Dammit!"

Brittany looked at Santana who was rubbing her head where Quinn had flicked it. "We have a secret handshake? You know, Artie asked me about that once…"

**#####**

_**A/N Please read and review if it moves you. It's almost my birthday and it would make me happy?**_

_**Also, Go Bruins!  
**_

_**Hope you guys enjoyed this one. Poor Quinn. I did have fun imagining them in the shower, I admit… hmm.**_

_**Songs were… Arcade Fire, Rebellion, and…Little Lion Man, Mumford and Sons. Although I listened to a variety of stuff when I was writing this one…**_


	42. Chapter 42

**Pairing: _Quinn/Rachel_**  
**Spoilers: Anything up to…end of Season Two...?**  
**Rated: R for language**

**A/N: Well…still Unbeta'd. I'll catch the errors later in the evening when the magically become obvious to me. I can only imagine the number of missing quotes etc. Sorry in advance!  
**

**A/N: I have been very long absent. I know. I'm sorry! Just a really long stretch of work and new job and all my creative writing cells were too tired to do anything but nap at the end of my days. Thank you EVERYone who has reviewed or checked on me. And sorry for the long wait. I had some of it done a long time ago, but by the time I got back to it, the muse who had been driving thus far pretty much said WTF was your plan? So…I actually reread the entire thing the other day (I don't know about all you writers out there…but I find rereading anything I write terribly anxiety producing, which is probably why my proofreading is so bad). So… trying to get my groove back… bear with me? In the meantime, time for the some of the other characters to intereact for a bit. I do hope to update on Sundays now...  
**

**#####**

Quinn was swept along by the two Cheerios. Her mind alternated between racing wildly and looking for an escape, and stuttering to a complete halt. She was caught and she had no idea what to do. She needed a minute. She needed to extricate herself from her self-appointed ushers for the day. She would have gladly latched onto Sam had he been in the hallway at this point, and she'd just spent the weekend dodging him.

Such was her desperation. The bathrooms were just around the corner. That would work.

"Hey guys, Wait. I can't… I just need. I have to you know…"

Brittany just tilted her head quizzically, but her other self-appointed escort eyed her suspiciously.

"Uh no, what Q? You have to…ditch school? Run like a scared little girl? Miss a test? Nice try."

"No, jackass. I have to pee. Wanna come and make sure? Creeper much?"

Brittany nodded her head. "She's probably just nervous about her test, San. You know how she gets before competitions."

It was true. Quinn had amazing stamina when it came to Cheerios, but apparently a ridiculously small bladder. Brown eyes stayed narrow. "Okay. You wanna keep an eye on Teacup here B?" The taller blond nodded as Santana turned a smiled sickly sweet at her captain. It was a look that that clearly called 'bullshit' on the Quinn's duck and cover drill.

Quinn held up her hands in fists and 'cheered' in a mocking whisper. "Yaaaay. Another stalker." She quirked her lips into a sarcastic smile and flipped her the bird.

Santana was not impressed."You wish Q."

Quinn shook her head, pretending to look sad. This was all familiar territory and it was easing her mind somewhat. "I knew I shouldn't have given you that teaser show in the showers."

Santana's jaw dropped a little indignation before shut it closed and glared as Quinn smirked.

Brittany bounced up and down."Guys. Please? Come on. I really do have to pee now."

"Coming Britts." Quinn's saccharin smile didn't fool Santana.

Santana cocked her head in a pretend thoughtful look. "I'll just head on into class then, you know, catch up with your tasty little Oompaloompa."

**#####**

The minute she entered a stall, replete with graffiti and phone numbers Quinn hauled out her phone and texted as fast as she had ever texted in her life.

**_Quinn:_**_ Rach. Heads up! Santana knows. So sorry. Just keep your head down. Don't react._

**#####**

Rachel was just getting settled into her seat before class. She'd kept her daily meet-up with Finn at her locker short, rushing off to go over notes she told him. He looked pouty at that, but didn't grumble too much. Everything else aside, she wasn't in the mood to placate him today.

She finished checking her calendar on her phone making sure she had a handle on this week's schedule. She felt-well prepared for the test. She was trying to figure out if she had time to get everything done over the long weekend. There were tests after the break as well. Satisfied, she put it away and prepared to focus.

The sounds of Mercedes and Kurt arriving caused her to look up. Normally on Monday morning, she was happy to see the duo, catch up on their weekend. But this wasn't every Monday.

She looked up at them, eyes overly bright and friendly, not sure what exactly either one of them knew or had pieced together. She didn't like the less than subtle appraising looking she was getting from them independently, or the fact that the animated talk all but ceased as they moved towards her. Kurt was slightly more subtle, but Mercedes was looking at her with a particularly thoughtful look. The fact that she shook her head violently like she was shaking off an unpleasant thought was something very less than comforting, and she could feel herself beginning to flush. Quickly she turned back to her notes on Mary Shelley.

"Hey Rachel. How did the rest of your weekend go? Anything special?" Mercedes recovered her aplomb and greeted her, nice, smooth and cheery.

Rachel took in Kurt's quick snap of the head to his fellow gossip and the shark look he was leveling at her.

Rachel cleared her throat and looked to Mercedes. "I had a…lovely weekend, study included." She noted Kurt looking at her again now, like his wheels were already turning.

**Crap. Crap Crap Crap.**

She cleared her throat and rearranged the supplies on her desk as she looked up and tried to redirect.

"How about you two? Kurt, did Finn and your dad like the baked chicken, cauliflower mashed potatoes and roasted asparagus?"

Mercedes harrumphed and looked at her friend. "That all sounds good. Except the baked part. Would it kill you to make a little fried chicken?"

Kurt gave her a blank, but still sardonic look. "Besides the obvious detriment to everyone's T-Zones? Uh. Yeah. It might not kill ME, but the idea is for dad to live longer."

Mercedes looked chagrined. "Oh. Yeah, you're right, sorry. My bad." She looked at Rachel who was nodding in agreement with Kurt.

"Anyway. Dad seemed to like it pretty well. Seems Finn got a little lonely since you all but ditched him for dinner. He called over Puck and those two scarfed it all down with their usual vigor after I expounded on the nutrients and vitamins course."

Rachel blanched as he straightened up and gave her a bright smile. "So Rachel! Finn will do muy bueno, si?"

"I think Finn will do just fine. He just needed a few pointers. And maybe a study chaperone."

Mercedes waited until Kurt put down his messenger bag to catch Rachel's eye. She arched her eyebrows meaningfully and placed her finger next to her nose and pointed at her subtly.

Rachel stared back, brows furrowed. Mercedes cocked and eyebrow and stared back. She leaned close and whispered. "He isn't the only one who needs a study chaperone, now is he?"

She groaned inwardly. As far as she was concerned it wouldn't be long before Jacob Ben-Israel would be shoving a microphone in her face looking for comments on her sudden return to Social Siberia. Because surely if these two knew, it was inevitable. 'Gay for Fabray' spray-painted on her locker was destined to become a reality. Well-meaning or not, she just didn't believe her friends could keep their mouths shut forever.

She dropped her head and let it knock against her desk.

She looked at her and mouthed the words "_we need to talk_." She opened her notebook and mouthed back. "_Mmm hmm."_

And if she was going to talk to Mercedes, she was probably going to have to talk to her fellow gossip monger.

Turning to Kurt who was primly arranging his cravat, she whispered. "We need to talk." He finished his straightening, glanced at Mercedes then back to her "I thought you'd never ask, ma Cherie."

She crossed and uncrossed her legs, while Kurt and Mercedes watched her nervously tap her eraser on her desk in a very un-Rachel-but-very-Finn-like-way. They eyed each other all the while, trying to gauge what the other knew.

Meanwhile, still tapping away, Rachel took a deep breath and sat up straight at her desk, glancing around the room, trying to not look obvious that she was looking for a certain blonde.

The short vibration of her phone in her backpack startled her, and the pencil went flying in a terrifying and magnificent arc over her head. She turned to see it flip and land right in front of a smirking Santana.

**Of course. Because I need to deal with Santana today.**

The Cheerio smiled slowly and deliberately as she bent over to pick it up. She sauntered over with it. Rachel was not at all comfortable with the gleam in her teammate's eyes.

"Here you go."

"Thank you Santana." She tried to keep from looking overtly suspicious as she reached for the pencil. But she wasn't at all surprised to find an admonishing finger waved in front of her at the last moment. "Not so fast Tater."

Of course that would have been too easy. She groaned inwardly and her gut started to twist. She sat back waiting to see what the mercurial Cheerio was up to. "Tater?" She queried. "That one is new."

The Latina grinned, pleased with herself. "As in Tots. Those ridiculously small misbegotten lumps of starch. You know, no right-thinking person would actually want them, am I right?" She looked at Mercedes and Kurt for confirmation. They didn't know what she was up to, but Kurt nodded in agreement. Mercedes shrugged non-comittally. Santana started to hand over the pencil over with an arched brow. But again, surprising to no one, she pulled it back and tapped it to her chin thoughtfully. "And yet? For reasons passing my understanding, some people apparently find them…tasty."

Rachel shrunk down in her chair. **Shit. She knows.**

She knows something of some sort, or she is just fishing. But where exactly was she going with this? "Well, I can't imagine they are a particularly healthy snack, but at least they are vegetarian..."

The Cheerio smacked her hand down on one of the occupied desks next to Rachel and gave the current surrounding occupants a look. "Find another place to cop one, squatters" The seats cleared out magically as the girls who normally sat there wisely evacuated. Santana slid lithely into the desk nearest Rachel, still in possession of the pencil, smirking like nobody's business.

"Vegetarian? Eh, you can tell yourself that, but really who knows what goes into Tots? Maybe they are veg, maybe they're not. The point is…oh, B, there you are." Brittany had poked her head into the classroom. "Q with you?"

"Here she is S." Quinn gave Santana a nasty look as she passed the bouncy blonde. "Thanks B. See you later. I'll watch the soap in the showers, no worries."

Santana smirked. "Ah, there she is. Please do have a seat, Q. I cleared some space for you."

Quinn's eyes narrowed dangerously On the one hand, she didn't like being told where to sit by Santana. On the other hand, she didn't dare leave her alone with Rachel. Pasting a bored look on her face, she put her books down and sat down, listening. There wasn't much else she could do at the moment and she knew it.

Kurt and Mercedes watched with rapt attention as Santana continued.

"Yep. I was just telling Rachel here about tiny little Tater Tots. You know, as weird as it is, some people can't keep their hands off them." She ignored the glare she was getting, continuing to talk. "I mean, if say…Quinn here had to choose between oh...I don't know...a Tater Tot and say….a good old fashioned fresh off the shelf golden Twinkie? You'd think Twinkie, am I right?"

"S…" Quinn hissed.

Rachel's jaw opened and snapped shut again, her eyes searching out Quinn, who gave her a sympathetic but ultimately helpless look.

"What? I'm was just going to tell Berry here that I happen know that you have been known indulge in that dwarf sized snack that dare not speak their name. Haven't you? It's alright. Don't be ashamed. After all, we all have our vices. Which is why I know how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop..."

Quinn grit her teeth."Santana, drop it."

"Aw, I'm just playing with you. Don't get your panties in a twist Q." She turned dropped the No. 2 pencil in front of the brunette and rolled it lightly. "Here ya go Tot…"

Rachel sat up straight, keeping her face neutral as she picked it up and put it neatly next to her notepad. "Thank you Santana."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Quinn shrug at her with apology on her face. She acknowledged it with a terse smile.

It was going to be a long day.

**#####**

When that class mercifully ended Quinn bent close to whispered quickly, breathing into her ear. "I texted you to warn you she knew, sorry."

Rachel sighed and looked at her arm "I see. I thank you, but I'm afraid I didn't get it in time." She looked up ruefully, but with a little humor. "And watch my ear. After all it, it is how we got in this mess."

Quinn looked at the prickled skin on Rachel's arm, and bit her lip, not sure how to take the comment."Sorry? About the…mess."

Rachel noted the worry in the hazel eyes, and couldn't help but grin a little lop-sidedly "Oh, not complaining really."

Quinn couldn't quite keep the smile from forming at the reassurance. She jerked her head towards the door where Santana was waiting, grinning smugly. "Well if it's any consolation, I think this is actually Santana being nice. Ish. I don't think she is going to do more than be a pain in the ass about it. Brittany will keep her in line."

She smaller girl sighed, "Brittany knows too?" She rubbed her eyes. She had no doubt that whatever else may come, she was going to be Santana's entertainment for the foreseeable future.

**#####**

And so the rest of the day went.

Rachel had been a blur between morning classes and they'd had very little interaction. When Quinn finally thought she'd get a chance to talk to her relatively alone, Coach Sylvester had waylaid her in the hall and so she was late to the one class they had together by themselves. The seat next to Rachel was already taken by the time she got there. She caught Rachel's eyes and gave a small smile before pulling out her phone.

**Quinn:** _Hey. you okay?_

**Rachel:** _Me? Oh just peachy. Or toasty. Like a Tater Tot apparently…  
_**Quinn:** _eh ...yeah, sorry about that. Santana is...Santana  
_**Rachel:** _I know. I just don't like being …pushed.  
_**Quinn:** _I know. I'll try to put a muzzle on it.  
_**Rachel:** _Thanks. :)  
_**Quinn:** _Ah, a smile. First one I've seen on you all day.  
_**Rachel:** _Really? I didn't know you were watching :)_

Quinn smiled wistfully herself before replying.

**Quinn:** _Rachel, I've always been watching. Just for different reasons before._

Rachel paused, and smiled again as she tapped out a facetious reply.

**Rachel:** _My very own stalker? Sweet.  
_**Quinn:** _lol, they're over-rated.  
_**Rachel:** _What?  
_**Quinn:** _ j/k. S and B are my personal stalkers today. Don't ask.  
_**Rachel:** _Santana is stalking you too? Lucky us. And here I just thought I was special_.

Quinn stopped. She shook her head at herself, annoyed that she was about to do something so ridiculous sappy. And she couldn't seem to stop herself.

**Quinn:** _You are_.  
**Rachel:** _I am what?  
_**Quinn:** _Sigh. Can I say that coy is not becoming on you._

She shook her head, resigned, and sent the text. She couldn't NOT send the text.

_**Do it… do it do it do it. Do it!  
I was unaware the resident guttersnipe had a romantic side.  
Well if it gets us all wrapped up in those legs again? Do it…  
Ah, I knew it was too good to be true.  
**_

**Quinn:** _Can't believe I'm doing this. You are special.  
_**Rachel:** _:D I know that about killed you. Thank you. ; )_

The brunette tried to smile at her, but Quinn wouldn't look at her for a minute. But she texted back.

**Quinn:** _Yeah yeah. I'm going soft.  
_**Rachel:** _Well_ _I have reason to know you are indeed quite soft…_

Quinn's head shot up wide-eyed and she looked over at that, Rachel giggled.

**Quinn:** _Behave…_

**_What did I tell you? Would I steer you wrong?  
Jury is still out on that._**

They had to stop texting while the teacher went over the latest handout and class was almost over anyway.

#####

Rachel kept her usual lunch meeting with Finn. He looked rumpled and sometimes slightly disgruntled, at least from afar. Quinn couldn't help but watch them out of the corner of her eye. She tried to pay at least nominal attention to Sam, who was his usual affable self. But she found herself smiling at his comments having no notion as to what he was talking about. She chastised herself for moving their study date to Tuesday.

**_Chicken Shit.  
Guilty as charged.  
You're no fun when you don't put up a fight, Q.  
Not in the mood today._**

She felt a buzz from her phone. She ignored it for a moment, trying to see if she could at least find the thread of what topic Sam might be talking about.

"Uh, babe, you're phone is buzzing." Sam looked at her and fixed his Bieber bangs.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I didn't think my conversation about when the next Avatar installation is coming out was that riveting to you."

"Oh, sorry. Hang on." She reached for her phone.

"It's cool I have to check with Coach Beiste about some plays. Catch you in Glee?"

"You bet." He bent to kiss her and she turned to present just her cheek. If it bothered him, he didn't make it known.

**Rachel:** _Does this count as misbehaving?_

She read the text and she tried not to smile.

**Quinn:** _What exactly are you doing?  
_**Rachel:** _Texting you while I'm having lunch with Finn_.  
**Quinn:** _Yeah. No. He did it all the time with me. Hm. Wonder who he was texting…_

Quinn looked across the room after she sent that. She wanted to laugh when she saw the diva's hand go to her mouth. She followed it up with her next quickly though after she'd made her point.

**Quinn:** _;-P Kidding you. Really. Couldn't resist. Point is, texting is not a crime…  
_**Rachel:** _Phew. Okay, Fabray. Fair enough._

**Quinn:** _So…I was thinking of checking to see if there are any good SyFy marathons over the long weekend…_

**Rachel:** _Oh?  
_**Quinn:** _Yeah. If you were interested…_

There was a pause, and Quinn waited, anxious. She could see Finn coming back from dumping his cafeteria tray.  
**_  
_Rachel:** _That might be fun. I have to watch the Macy's Parade with my dads. If you're interested.  
_**Quinn:**_ I'd like that. But…depends on what/when with my sister. Gotta go to class._  
**Rachel:** _Me too._

As she read the last text, Quinn's stomach tightened as she looked up to see Finn bend down (way down she thought uncharitably) to kiss Rachel. She was inordinately pleased to see her only kiss him on the cheek.

**#####**

By the time Rachel had finished her fifth class of the day (her second with Santana…), she had an entire 'cast' of metaphorical snacks dancing in her head. Once she knew what Santana was up to it was surprisingly entertaining (given she was on the verge returning to social bottom-dwelling) to try to figure out who was what unsavory snack.

At one point or another she had metaphorically been compared to a Totino's Pizza Roll, an Altoid and a kosher Pig in the Blanket. Finn was variously a corn dog, Cheese Puffs and Slim Jims. Puck was a kosher corn dog (of course) and Bugles. She thought there was some veiled references to Artie but wasn't sure. Sam, of course, was always the Twinkie.

Eventually when Santana's running dissertation on snacks had spilled over into the hallway, Brittany complained that she was getting hungry even though she'd just eaten lunch, and could Santana please quit going on and on about snack foods that Coach Sylvester wouldn't even let them eat.

Finn had opened his emergency bag of Doritos, which made Quinn snicker. Rachel hated the smell of Doritos.

By the end of 6th period though, Quinn had had it. She'd suffered through three classes with her, and that was enough. It was almost time for glee practice and this had to stop. She cornered Santana near her locker.

"You've had your fun. And now? Time for you to back the fuck off. I haven't even had a chance to talk to Sam, and with you running your mouth..."

Santana stopped with a book in her hand and gave her an incredulous look.

"Hold up now. What? So you really are serious about that? You are really going to break up with the Twinkie?

"Yes, I'm breaking up with the Twinkie. I mean Sam, dammit. I told you, regardless of...anything else, I started out wanting this year to be about me."

Santana continued to look consternated. "Oookay. Fine. So what about your little Wavy Lay? After one night of…whatever it is you two did, is she really going to bring an end to that horror that is Frankenberry?"

"I don't know. And not the point," Quinn said with more confidence and determination than she actually felt.

"Really?" Santana drawled, changing out a book in the locker.

"Really."

Santana turned to look behind her at Brittany who was happy looking as usual. Her face softened and then she turned back, all quiet business. "Alright then Q. What exactly is the point? I mean, far as I know, you just don't roll casual like me. How are you going to feel if she keeps hangin' on to Finn?"

The was an awkwardness to the set to her friend's lips; Quinn couldn't tell if it was because she had used the word 'feel', or because she had used Finn's actual name. Probably both. Either way she knew the use of his real name meant she was serious about the question.

Santana leaned in closer for more privacy. "No lie Q." She locked eyes. "What if? Speaking from experience, I can tell you it sucks warming the bench, never knowing if you'll ever actually get in the game. For real. So. I ask you. How are you going to feel?"

**_How will you feel? You will feel like you want to rip his Cabbage Patch head off his wee little neck and piss down his…__  
__Uh. Ew. Gross.__  
__Do you deny it?__  
__No. _**

Quinn tried to focus. She could see the sincerity there. She sighed. "I'll worry about that when, and if I have to. Or want to."

"Well, as long as you have a plan."

Quinn snorted. "Like yours has worked out so well. Artie is still in your happy little picture too, unless I'm mistaken…?"

Santana shoved her text book in her locker and, slammed the door shut and her back went rigid.

Quinn felt a twinge of remorse. "Sorry, low blow." She turned and leaned into the wall, letting her shoulder thump. "She'll come around. Well she will if you quit acting like you don't care about it. Really. She will, S."

Lips curled in a sour smile. "Yeah, I've been telling myself that. And yet...you are correct. Wheels is still a barnacle on the otherwise blissful Good Ship Brittana."

"Brittana? "

"I don't know. Something to do with Lord Tubbington. I didn't press." She whirled and crossed her arms across her chest. "Christ Q. We are fucking pathetic. How did WE become the resident lovelorn on the lowdown."

After a few seconds, Quinn finally remembered to have the presence of mind to at least summon a snort of derision.

"Pfft. Lovelorn? Hardly."

Santana wasn't buying yet. "Oh, pardon moi, Q. Yeah right. Whatever lets you sleep at night. I'm sure it's not like you'll tossing and turning thinking about any midnight Tater Tot snacks tonight or anything.."

"Oh shut it. And oh yeah. When the HELL have you ever seen me eat a Tater Tot for crying out loud? Seriously? Tater Tots? You are losing your skills."

"Oh you saw what I did there?" She snickered.

"Yes, you idiot. And so did Rachel. Can you just leave it alone? At least for a little while? And what was with the Artie weird Carr Water Cracker connection?

Her friend shrugged. "Not my finest work, I'll admit. So, yeah, they're boring bland crackers. And I think they're round. Like wheels...? Hey, I was working off the top of my head, gimme a break. And fine, I'll try to keep my mirth to myself. For the day anyway. I can only speak for me and Brittany, so I suggest you check yourself Q."

Quinn looked at her blankly, so Santana clarified. "Don't think I didn't see you texting Tater all day. And if I saw it, so could someone else."

Quinn rolled her eyes and shook her head. She pushed away from the wall and arched her eyebrow, speaking low. "Hey…so speak of the slow rolling devil…here he comes."

Dark eyes narrowed. She turned to see Artie and Puck materialize down the hall. Artie was enjoying his swagger, even if it was by proxy.

"Hey now. How about some sugar?" Artie proffered his cheek and Brittany smiled sweetly and bent down and kissed it. "That's what I'm talkin' about."

Santana looked like she wanted to put a fist-sized hole in Artie.

"My girl can't help herself around me, can she?" He cocked his eyebrow at his rival, feeling safe with Brittany around.

Not wanting her friend in Figgin's office for the third time this year, Quinn stepped up, bluntly. "Alright Artie, enough with the PDA. Nobody needs to see that. Ever. And B? Not cool."

Brittany looked chagrined.

Puck could see something was brewing so he tried to step in, grinning with all his boyish charm. "Ladies. So how about some sugar for Puckzilla too?"

"In your dreams Puckerman" intoned Quinn and Santana in unison. He shrugged and turned his puppy dog eyes on Brittany, who smiled and pecked him on the cheek.

Santana folded her arms and quirked her eyebrow at Artie and smirked at the discomfort she saw there. Puck was a chick magnet. And even if the guys were friends, she assumed, like herself and Quinn, there was probably some suspicion. At least on Artie's part. She did her best to poke at that weak spot in Artie whenever she could.

Quinn shot Puck a measuring glance, and gave him a slight nod of acknowledgement for running interference.

He winked at her over Brittany's head. "Okay then….at least a little love for the Puckmeister." He looked around at the still ruffled rivals. "Let's roll. We gots practice in fifteen."

Artie looked up at Puck. "I'll take it from here."

Puck lifted his hands off the handles. "Cool."

Santana stood a moment watching. Brittany gave her a questioning look, waiting for her to follow. Quinn knew it would annoy her to have to accompany the happy 'official' couple, thus becoming the proverbial third wheel.

She took pity and cleared her throat and jerked her head. "Come on San. We can catch up some more." She added loud enough for the couple to hear. "I know you were real busy Saturday night…"

Santana watched with some satisfaction as the retreating wheelchair (he didn't even wait for B, what a tool) come to an abrupt halt, then continue on. Santana half-grinned at her captain in thanks, and took the opening "Sure thing Q. Later Britts…"

Brittany turned and waved and smiled, a little sadly Santana allowed herself to think.

Puck immediately took advantage of having a Cheerio on either side of him. He put on his best cocky smile and wrapped his arms over their shoulders. "Ladies, ladies, what have you been up to this weekend?" He looked down at Santana. "I think I know what, or who, I should say…you got into. Am I right? "

Santana said nothing, but smirked slightly.

"You can neither confirm nor deny, eh? Well you all are crazy-fucked up, but I suppose it is my kinda fucked up." He gave her shoulder a squeeze before turning to Quinn.

"Now Q? My man Finn has been fretting like a damn chick since Saturday. Poor dude can't decide if he is in the dog house or not. He jawed my ear off during COD. And then some more during dinner last night. Berry this, Berry that. What happened to Berry? Berry has changed. I was like dude, what the hell? Make up your mind. One minute you think she's clingy, the next not clingy enough."

Santana craned her head around to see Quinn's reaction. All she got was a glare.

Quinn tilted her head up. "Wait, you had dinner at Hummel's?"

"Yeah, weren't you listening? Berry bailed on him, and he went all up into a funk. He probably would have invited Sam, but we figured you all were 'studying'." He waggled his eyebrows.

Quinn pinched him. "Ow, woman!"

Santana cackled, and Quinn shot her a death glare. Puck didn't want to step in whatever the two were warring over now, so he hurried on.

"So…okay, you weren't studying with Surfer Boy, got it. ANYways, I swear Finn is like a toddler when his mom is away on business trips. Without Kurt, I don't know what the hell those guys would eat. Kurt makes some good shit."

Puck kept walking and talking, getting in an occasional grope on Santana, who didn't seem to mind. "I don't know what has gotten into him. It's like if Rachel isn't acting every moment like he hung the damn moon, he doesn't know what to do. I mean, I told our boy his guns weren't big enough to carry around his big ol' head, the way he was acting." He stopped and flexed his arms. "Not like me, am I right?"

"Right, Puckerman. Not at all like you. You have a thick enough neck and big enough guns to support your huge head. There is something to be said for being appropriately proportioned. And if you mention any other proportions…"

"Fabray, you suck the fun out things sometimes, you know that?"

"But you love me." Quinn reminded him so he would keep talking.

He squeezed her shoulders in a hug and continued on.

"Right. So, I'm trying to figure out what is so different about my Berry, Berry Quite Contrary lately that has Finn's big boy panties in a twist. He was all over the place, ya'll. He said she was snippy." He tilted his head and looked at Quinn "About you. Only not like you'd think, right? She was defending you to Finn. Weird, huh?"

Santana's snicker earned her another warning glare, which Puck wisely continued to ignore. "I'm sorry Q, I'd have your back too. You know I love my Baby Momm—Ow! Ow! Sorry, Sorry! I forgot. I love you as a friend and respect you…?" When no more pinching was forthcoming, he continued "Anyhows, you know I got your back and all, but I just don't get into it with him when it comes to you. Not good for our newly revived bromance, sorry babe."

Quinn nodded and pressed her lips flat. She understood. She'd never been happy that she'd come between the two friends. Not really. It was just another casualty of her bad decision making. "So that's it? He's mad at her for that?"

"Anyway, other than him being wicked pissy when your name comes up, I've got no real idea what crawled up his ass died. Told him he was being a whiney jackass, and be nice to his girl. Maybe take her on real date. Sing her a song. She loves that sappy bullshit."

Santana looked instantly at Quinn, whose face had gone steely. She decided to repay the favor from earlier and spoke so Quinn wouldn't have to. "Oh? Furnip is planning a date?"

Quinn gave her a quizzical look, and her friend sighed and spoke slowly. "Finn, turnip. Same same." Quinn weighed it, and nodded approval. Santana continued "Anyway, tell me Furnip is going to sing today. I need a laugh."

The boy shook his head and clapped them on the back. "Sorry to ruin your fun babe. I think I managed to talk him out of it. Did you really want to hear our badly drawn boy sing a power ballad today? Told him to try taking Berry someplace besides Breadstix for once. The Wok on High Street has that tofu shit she eats."

They were almost to the music room. "And when was this date going to be?"

Puck looked at her funny. "How the hell do I know? What do you care S? I mean I thought you had your eye on somebody else's forbidden fruit now?"

"Please, never again with Blunder Boy. Trust me. I don't know...I just thought maybe those two could have a double-date or something. You know, Sam and Q here…Furnip and Tater Tot."

Quinn's eyes got wide and she gave her an incredulous and suspicious look. "Yeah, so not happening."

Puck eyed her suspiciously too. "Uh, like I said, Q here is still on Finn's shit list for some reason. Doesn't sound like a fun evening to me. Q?"

"At the moment? Not even if Hell was freezing over."

Puck nodded and removed his arms and looked at one and then the other before raising his hands. "Okay. What? What? I'm missing something here aren't I?"

Santana smiled her deadly too sweet smile. "Oh, Puckerman, Trust me, you wouldn't understand. This little drama is.. how shall I say…?"

"S…" Quinn warned her with a clenched jaw. "I am talking me wearing cleats next Cheerio practice. Think about it."

Santana took a moment to think about that. Puck wisely just put his hands in his pockets and waited for the showdown to end.

Santana chose her words carefully. "Let's just say it is a girl thing Puckerman. Yeah. JUST between girls."

Quinn ground her teeth. She raised her fingers and made a measure. "This close Lopez. Just. This. Close." Then she pivoted and left.

Santana giggled and called after her. "What Fabray? Am I wrong? Oh, there's Sam. Ask him if he wants to double-date."

Puck just stood there. "Uh, are you going to explain that?"

Santana waved her hands dismissively at the perplexed boy. Now that the opportunity to needle Quinn just a little bit was gone, she was over it. She had no intentions of messing with Quinn at any higher level than she was now. Sure, they could sabotage each other occasionally. Okay, more than occasionally, but not about something like this.

"Don't worry your pretty little head well-supported head Puck. I'm just yanking her chain. Keep this to yourself."

"Oookay. What to myself?"

"Good answer."

**A/N: Once again, really sorry for the long break. I had to get all my little ducks in a row to have time to write, and then I had to (attempt) to get all my little plot ducks in a row... :) Thanks for hanging in or checking it out if you're new! On a happy note. Man U thrashed by Man City today. This makes me happy. Liverpool are doing...better. But they shoulda won yesterday. Oh well. And a shout out to all you reviewers who keep reviewing. Thank you SO for taking the time :)**

**Wikipedia:** Quinns Rocks is an outer coastal suburb of Perth, Western Australia, located 38 kilometres north of Perth's central business district.

**Wikipedia:** ME is a hip hop duet composed of Continental T and E-leven.


End file.
